Making Moves
by MMBabefanmmm
Summary: Stephanie Plum reflects on her present existence and makes some life changing decisions and acts upon them. Babe HEA.
1. Chapter 1

**MAKING MOVES**

 _In part based on the song 'Missed' by Ella Henderson. All the familiar characters belong to JE. I'm just playing with them. This started as a one shot but it might lend itself to more. Let me know what you think._

Who would have thought I'd be here in the gym, working out and enjoying myself? Yes, this is me, Stephanie Plum, not Pod Plum, the same Stephanie whose diet used to revolve around doughnuts and meatball subs and mooching pot roast dinners with the customary left-overs from my family at six sharp on Friday nights. This is the new me, same person, different attitude, better attitude and a better life. I have made some moves in a new direction.

Over the last few months I have been building my stamina and fitness with a variety of physical challenges. Starting slowly with light routines, some of the Merry Men have been my coaches and workout buddies. It's been hard work and certainly has made me respect them all the more for their dedication and diligence in their workouts. No wonder they look so good.

Ranger was surprised yet pleased when I conceded the need for more training and requested some guidance after a particularly bad day. He and Bobby decided to activate a plan immediately. "Whoa! I need to start, soon, but not this minute." They looked at each other and I sighed while they both grinned from ear to ear. Anyone would think they had a new weapon or something. Go figure.

"Granted. Besides, you will need some workout gear and new shoes would help. Next week is fine." Ranger and I made our selections on line and it was on. Once again he gave me choices. That was a while back now and here I am looking forward to my trainer du jour.

With my hands on my knees, breathing hard after round three of the fourth set of boxing drills, I glare at my partner. That's Cal with the _long_ legs and the _longer_ arms, the same Cal who had me pushing harder and higher beyond my reach with upper cuts, right hooks, left hooks, jabs and all the fancy footwork and shuffling interspersed. But I did it. He chuckles at me, nodding his head in approval and offers a high five with the pads. With a smile I accept and return the gesture with my gloved hand. I can't talk just yet and I can tell he is more than satisfied that he pushed me to the limit with a PB for this week.

"I knew you could do it. Way to go, Steph," he said as he charted my results. "Remind me to watch out for that left hook. Next week we can start on some kickboxing. I know you're gonna love that."

RSRSRSRS

It's a refreshing change from the searches and investigative work from upstairs. To be told that eventually I would actually enjoy my gym time **and** look forward to it, I would have thought you were off your rocker. Seeing is believing. I was daunted by all the equipment and more than overwhelmed by their expertise, their sheer strength and their awesome physiques.

They encouraged me to channel my rage into physical release which has been surprisingly liberating. That was Ranger's way of helping me cleanse my mind of the negative vibes that still lingered from my Mom and Morelli, the TPD and others. Yoga and meditation was included in my weekly training schedule. Mindfulness meditation allowed me to understand and deal with stress, to centre myself and use my breathing to help with relaxation. Ranger was good at this, in more ways than one.

I'm a lucky girl I guess, but when you work out with friends it is all the more satisfying and pleasurable. We laugh a lot but there is a lot of focus, support, mentoring and encouragement, lots of encouragement. Bobby modified some of the routines to be woman-friendly and advised me to start slowly, "Small steps," he'd said. After stretches, skipping and warm ups I complete a mini circuit and then my coaches take over with their speciality. So there's lots of variety and I get to interact with these cool guys, my Merry Men, in another way. It's not all sweet and easy because they work me hard and are tough in their expectations once I have mastered the basics.

Don't get me wrong, having all this testosterone and eye candy is tough to deal with. I don't actually objectify them but it is a game we play and the playful teasing banter between us and each other is cool and certainly helps the time pass between sets.

RSRSRSRSRS

Looking back, I realise how far I have come. Yikes. What a disaster my life had been before I made the decision to make some moves for self-improvement and self-preservation. I was on an unending spiral of unwitting self-destruction, losing myself as others tried to interfere, criticise, change me and control my life.

My existence was an irregular pattern of catching skips for small amounts of money, 10% of their bond, often after long hours of hunting them down to catch said skips. I would use my computer, go to the library to check old newspapers and tap the Burg Grapevine. My Grandma Mazur was a font of knowledge of all things local. At times, I would make use of the advanced computer search engines made available to me at Rangeman. Rangeman was the security company owned by Ranger and his Merry Men who also apprehended the higher bonded skips. No way was I able to manage that level of perps with a fear factor right off the charts. Bad asses with skills and a freaky as hell range of charges and crimes had to be hunted down by equally badass Rangemen who were far more experienced and tough.

My skips ranged from local regulars to skips with minor crimes and, of course, they were FTA, failing to appear in court. Not all of them were pleased to see me and although my experience and skills were basic, I had a high degree of determination and success. It was my curiosity and tenacity that kept me on their trail. My modus operandi was unconventional and at times it took more than one go to catch my FTAs.

Having local knowledge was a big advantage. But my pursuits frequently involved food flinging, rolling in garbage, sometimes being tossed into a dumpster, chasing down alleyways littered with all kinds of filth or all the above. In the midst of all that mayhem, fire also featured in my repertoire and car bombs. As a result, my arrival at the Trenton Police Department was heralded with laughter and mockery of my appearance and the usual exchange of money as bets were won and lost. The continuing saga of my cars blowing up was another favourite betting pastime and no amount of sass and glares seemed to affect them as I waited to collect my body receipt. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

To make matters worse, Detective Joseph Morelli, who had been my so-called boyfriend, more off than on, would grab me in the parking lot and vehemently express his dislike of my job and how useless I was at it, despite bringing in my skip successfully just then. His remonstrations were always accompanied by despair at my appearance and like my mother, how much of a disappointment I was. Yada yada yada. I'd heard it all before. I even knew the script off by heart. I would roll my eyes while he ranted on waving his arms around. It used to get me down. Being put down on both fronts was getting sad and depressing.

This was really getting old. It was like being stuck on a merry-go-round, stuck in a rut, the same old same old. My mediocre life was becoming a predictable and humdrum nightmare driven by other people. There was no escape, or so it seemed.

I wasn't always a mess coming in to the TPD and their reaction was usually disappointment. Go figure. An occasional well done was welcome but rare. I was entertainment to them and it was becoming tedious. I did not sign up for chuckles.

My fridge and pantry were frequently empty with barely a basic supply of food. Keeping up with my monthly bills and rent was quite stressful but somehow I made ends meet with my meagre takings. Low bond skips were my domain but living from cheque to measly cheque was at times desperate. Since I did not inherit the cooking gene my meals were mostly take-out - pizza, Chinese and meatball subs from Pino's. Dinner at my parent's home and sometimes lunch as well, prevented me from starving during those Spartan times. My saving grace was the occasional work for Rangeman.

Friday night summonses from my harpy of a mother ensured I had a bit of variety in my diet with 'real food' as she called it. The meal was also a session of reprimands and how I disappointed her or embarrassed my family with my job. The bribe and promise of chocolate cake or pineapple upside down cake were a means of keeping me there for the duration of the meal and enduring the 'life lessons', my penitence.

On a number of occasions Morelli would be there sitting at the dinner table or some other Joe Blow from God knows where, with the promise of a free meal and permission to 'court' their daughter. Not being married and settling down like a good Burg girl making children was a bone of contention with my Mom. I've already done that drive and it was a disaster. Morelli's appearance was rarely a welcome one since it conveniently seemed to coincide with our off phase. And those other … suitors? Pfft. They were a weird and sordid selection of the dregs of the Burg's marriageable men. This was such a dreary and predictable scenario. Evidently, my life was a cesspit. And it stank!

RSRSRSRS

Lying on my bed in my favourite thinking position, I was reflecting on my life as it was in that moment in time. The pros and cons were definitely not in balance. I questioned my priorities and looking at the longer list of cons which inevitably included the constant nagging and whining of my Mom, the dinner commands, Morelli with … everything, the TPD with all their negative banter and mockery, I realised how precious the pros were and how important they were. Ranger, my friend, my mentor and sometimes lover and then the Merry Men, were my constants. They supported me. They did not criticise or humiliate me or try to change me. My Grandma was also on my side.

That was the crux of it all. Mom and Morelli were relentlessly negative with their scathing criticism and wanting me to change to suit their demands and meet Burg approval and standards. Blah de blah blah. Ranger and his men on the other hand, were the ones who gave me sincere support, encouragement and even pride in my achievements. It was unconditional. They had my back. That was unquestionably not what I got from my own mother and definitely not from Morelli. Sad but true.

Morelli. Hmph! He said he loved me but his actions didn't reflect that. He's got to go. I have had enough of his daily rants and his twisted desire to get married and have kids, **Morelli** kids, with him. Ew. He gets me down and hurts me with his constant mental harassment, verbal abuse and bully tactics. I have dreams, dreams of a better future, a happy future and it's time for me to take control of my life. He scoffs at my hopes and dreams as if it is a foregone conclusion that as a good Burg wife, my dreams do not matter. Well, I got news for him.

To think that somehow I allowed this to happen. Did I? When did that start? He abused me in the garage as a curious six year old. He abused me publicly by writing all over the walls with his conquest when he raped me at sixteen years old by charming the pants of me behind the éclair case at closing time of the Tasty Pastry. My mother had always warned me to stay away from those Morelli boys. So I was grounded for that entire summer. I was the victim yet she punished me? I was confused and made to feel so ashamed. The bitter hurt of that summer still lingers painfully. What kind of mother does that? And nowadays he's welcomed to the family dinner table! Double standards? What a hypocrite. How did that happen?

I sat bolt upright. How did that change? I have been allowing them to make decisions for me, forcing their whims and allowing them to control me. Well, I have had enough of that bullshit. It has to end and only I can do that. No more dinners served with acrimony and acerbic criticisms and a huge helping of guilt. I will not feel obliged to go for Friday dinners. So I don't get pineapple upside down cake anymore? Pfft. I pull up my big girl panties. I need to take action. Forget the bribe of the cake, she can stuff it! No more guilt either. It oozes sickeningly through the phone and I can feel the barbs trying to snare me. I am resolute. I have made my decision and it felt good.

RSRSRSRSRS

After a few narrow escapes with a couple of reluctant, really belligerent skips in my chosen job as a bounty hunter, who decided that attack was their best form of defence, I realised I had to be more proactive in my fitness routine. Okay, I admit, there was no fitness let alone a routine. The routine only involved the mandatory Boston crème and a coffee, but exercise? Pfft. I resisted exercise at all costs.

Reality bites. I knew I was way over my depth with this asshole, so I bit the bullet and called Rangeman. Within minutes a shiny black SUV arrived with the cavalry and assisted me with the capture. Recognising that this skip was beyond my experience was a wise decision. Bobby was particularly concerned with my cuts and bruises and a blossoming shiner. While Lester and Hal cautioned the skip with a few healthy, firm reminders of the physical kind before cuffing him, he dressed my wounds. Ranger appeared and scowled at the files Vinnie had assigned to me. He was furious but his eyes softened when he looked at me.

"Are you alright, Babe?" It meant more than just was I feeling okay. His eyes scanned my injuries and he was not happy. My eyes glistened but I blinked them quickly and took a deep breath, inhaling the fortifying scent of Bulgari that was Ranger. I nodded.

"Yep. Am now."

He looked at the skip, the size of him and his newly acquired cautionary reminders.

He asked me, "Do you want to take him in or are you okay with Lester and Hal taking him in?"

See, that is the difference. Ranger gives me options, choices that are reasonable and considered. He asks me, not tells me … he asks. I think about it and decide.

His thumb gently rubs along my bottom lip and the swelling on one side and his lips whisper across mine as warm tingles flutter over my skin. His eyes are smiling with the little hint of crinkles in the corners.

"Proud of you, Babe. Have dinner with me tonight?"

I nod and smile.

"On seven?" He pauses, "Or would you like to go out for dinner, somewhere quiet?"

Without hesitation I reply simply, "Seven. At seven?"

One hundred watts gleam at me and he kisses me chastely and nods.

"Go get 'em, Tiger." He nods to Hal and Lester.

As I walked into the TPD with my skip, Hal and Lester waited outside. A hush followed me as I approached Robin at the booking desk. Her eyes widened taking in my injuries and then the skip and his physical condition waiting quietly, submissive and contrite. She quietly handed me the body receipt and my skip was escorted not so gently away. Ask no questions, give no answers.

Out of the corner of my eye I spot the exchange of money. I stride over and hold my hand out, signalling firmly to hand it over when they questioned my unexpected response. I glared at them impatiently, tapping my foot.

"As the saying goes, the buck stops here. I have had enough. This wad of cash is going to charity as of now. Robin, can you do the honours, please? I think the Women's Refuge is appropriate." She beams at me and nods.

"This is how it goes. You will no longer bet on my deeds, my appearance, my cars or my life. That you don't give a shit how badly injured I might be surprises me. And, to think I thought some of you were my friends. Well, obviously I was greatly mistaken." Looks of regret, shame and guilt appeared on their faces, especially the older ones who knew me. Some couldn't even face me. The newbies had no idea and just shrugged their shoulders.

Holding my head high I walk out only to run into Morelli near the docking ramp. He takes in my condition. I brace myself. Oh boy. Here goes.

"Hey, Steph. Had a bit of a rumble? It's been a while." He tries to peek down my t-shirt but I pull away. "The 'Boys' miss you, Bob too. How about we get together and –"

"No." I try to head on out but he blocks my path. I stop and stare blankly at him.

"Oh, c'mon, Steph. You know we are good together. Look at you. You should quit this stupid idea that you are good at bounty hunting. You can do better. You need to quit this job because you're hopeless at it. You could shack up with me and, you know, we can get married and have kids. You can leave that shitty apartment you call home. I have a house and you know …" He raised his eye brows and waggled them knowingly.

I stare at him steadfastly and fold my arms balancing my weight more on my right leg. He looks a little unsure so I smile. His expression changes to that lopsided panty-loosening grin of his. Smooth, Morelli. Not.

"You know. You're right."

"See? That wasn't so hard. You missed me, admit it."

"You think you were missed? Well let me tell you this. The love I had for you has flown. A long time ago. We are over, Joe. We were over **already** , already. It's just you, on your own. No turning back. I'm done with that. I am no longer going to let you get me down, or hurt me or control me. You brought that all on yourself."

To say he was surprised by my words was an understatement. He started to fume but I cut him short.

"Oh no. I'm not finished yet. Did you ever think to ask how I was? Like now? I am drawing the line here. You see, the only right thing you said was, 'I can do better'. You nailed that Joe. The rest is old, the same old dance we have done for too long. And I am done with you. I wish you well, Joe, but don't count on me. I am moving on and I don't see you in my future at all anymore."

Before he can respond as he takes all that in, I calmly walk away. I felt lighter, free for the first time in ages. That was easy and I feel uplifted and proud of myself.

My thoughts were broken by his angry taunts but I just ignored him and left him to it. Pfft. I knew those nasty scornful words well. I switched off because it wasn't worth the time or effort to take them in. I smiled at Lester's huge grin and walked to where I had parked my car.

"Hal?"

He nods and as my neck tingles my unasked questions are answered. Ranger is leaning against his Porsche, arms folded across his manly chest and those long legs casually crossed over. My God that man is so sexy.

I am rewarded by a 200 watt smile and Lester's coughing fit and laughter. Oh. Ranger nods. I glance at Lester trying to recover but smiling broadly.

Breaking the good vibes, my cell phone rings with the tone that warns me it's my Mom. I look at it thinking about dismissing the call. I look Ranger in the eye and feel strong as I hit the button and listen.

"Hi Mom."

Of course, she cuts me off. I can't imagine what embarrassment I could possibly have caused her this time. I'm really only half listening as she raves on with the usual put downs and "why me's," while Ranger watched me intently. I liked what I saw and so did he.

"Hmm? Sorry. I missed that … No, I wasn't listening fully, Mom." More whining and raving. I rolled my eyes.

I interrupt her rant firmly and assertively.

"Mom. Gotta go … No. Don't expect me for dinner … I don't want the cake. That's not gonna work with me anymore … Not next week either ... Forget it, Mom. I have a date … Yes a date, a date with destiny." I hung up watching Ranger's eyes darkening tossing my cell in to my bag.

God that felt good. Go me! I walked closer and stood in front of him and smiled, breathing him in again, the power of Bulgari.

"Do I have to fight someone called Destiny?"

"Nope." I can do the one word thing too.

"Babe?"

"Ranger?"

He grinned his wolf grin. Uh, oh. Pulling the tiger's tail could be dangerous. I think I could learn to like living dangerously. He grabbed my hips and gently pulled me towards him. His hands ghosted up my arms to both sides of my face. He brought me close within kissing range.

"So …"

"So."

"Feeling bold, Babe?"

"Take me away from here, Batman."

"As you wish."


	2. Feeling Good

MAKING MOVES: Chapter 2: FEELING GOOD

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 _Thank you for your kind reviews. I appreciate them and your encouragement._

 _Not making any money, just enjoying playing with JE's characters._

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It is remarkable how a day can change in the blink of an eye. With those sweet words to my ears, "Take me away, Batman", my heart literally skipped a beat. Besides, who am I to ignore such a simple request? Without even waiting for directions I opened the passenger door and she sat down with a sigh closing her eyes as she sank into the soft leather upholstery. Leaning across as I fastened her seatbelt, I brushed my lips across hers which were invitingly open on another sigh. Her eyes blinked open and I was gifted with a beautiful smile. I couldn't help myself. I wanted more. But, I understood, not here, not in the TPD parking lot. So I just grinned and gave her a wink.

She nestled into the seat with a happy sigh and smiled that beautiful smile again. Oh man. I'm a goner. Dios. What has she done to me? Who am I kidding? That happened a while ago.

Right. Time to play. I started the engine and gave it a few extra revs and it achieved the expected reaction. She moaned and wriggled into the leather some more. I grinned but only on the inside. Leaving the parking lot at a sedate pace, I hit the road. At the Turnpike I really let 'er rip! I accelerated and headed out of Trenton. She moaned again then turned her body facing me.

"You're ba-ad. You are doing that on purpose, Batman."

I raised one eyebrow, still keeping my eyes on the road.

"Babe."

"Don't you Babe me, Ranger."

"Okay. Yes I did."

"Hmm," she sighed wistfully and closed her eyes. "You really know how to rev my hormones." She murmured. I couldn't help but smile at her unwitting disclosure.

"I aim to please, Babe."

"Ungh. Out loud, huh? Oh well, you knew that already Bad Boy." And with that she drifted off to sleep with a peaceful look on her face with the hint of a smile.

Always being aware of my surroundings is paramount and so ingrained in my modus operandi that it is just second nature. It's instinctive like breathing in and out. All my training in the military has honed my skills so acutely that it has given me and my men as well, a remarkable edge over our adversaries. I like to have control of things that I can have an impact on, control of the people under my command and the utmost control over my emotions. There is no feeding off my emotions when dealing with the lowlifes of Trenton and beyond.

The capacity to instil fear with just a look and my imposing body language is testimony to that. Mastering these skills and being able to read people have been valuable assets. People-watching has come into a realm of its own. Simple things like standing back and watching, taking in the big picture, the whole scene, observing their eyes and gestures, reading their body language for those tell-tale signs that they emanate unknowingly. They are so critical and very useful, invaluable in fact.

But there is one person who has the ability to break my control unconsciously and sometimes quite inadvertently. It seems deep down my brain has given permission for my heart to open, initially just giving glimpses of what I would dearly desire recognising the truth and realising how important she is to me. And here she is, in my car with a serene look on her face, with me. She's drifted off and I am in my zone, as she calls it. I pressed my iPod for a quiet soothing selection from my playlist.

Now watching Stephanie has become a pleasant pastime, from up close and personal and from afar. I glance at her momentarily and smile. She is relatively easy to read since she is so expressive. But then again, I have to admit, I have been watching Stephanie for a long time, even when she sleeps. That she verbalises her thoughts and thinks out loud at times is enchanting, often giving information to the enemy, me being the enemy so to speak. Watching her in her sleep seems to calm my demons; she centres me even in her slumber.

From the outset she had me fascinated with those beautiful blue eyes. She had captivated my attention with her unorthodox antics which were not always successful at first. But despite the hard knocks in the bounty hunting game, including those from people close to her like her sniping mother and that asshat Morelli, she continues to be determined to achieve her target. She has a great deal of resilience and it was obvious that, in a strange kind of way, the lack of support from her family made her all the more determined to pursue this profession.

It was a shock to discover that Stephanie and Vincent Plum were related but thankfully she inherited genes from an entirely different branch of the Plum family tree.

In the beginning, standing back in the shadows watching her, I was intrigued by her energy and her aura of goodness. Her regular FTAs appreciated these aspects of her persona. The more hardened scumbags on the lower range of FTAs didn't give a damn but she seemed to bounce back despite the setbacks and interference. She came close to giving up a number of times but would rally and resume with a new resolve. True grit, spunk and courage were definitely evident. It always amazed me how she never gave up. Her persistence and tenacity were certainly not what I expected after our first encounter.

I always wondered how and why someone like Stephanie Plum would even be involved in bounty hunting. After I discovered it was a measure of desperation that drove her whilst avoiding being harangued by her interfering mother to work on those mind-numbing assembly lines at the button factory or the personal products plant, I began to understand her need to maintain independence and control of her own life. I had mentally nodded in approval at my revelation at that time. Thankfully she chose to stay with bounty hunting rather than those dead end jobs. It would have killed her, metaphorically speaking.

I discovered that after the Feds exposed the money laundering fraud behind E.E. Martin, she was without a job and that is how she came to work for Vinnie. Connie had called in a favour and I agreed to meet this newbie bounty hunter wannabe. I was surprised when she entered the diner and walked directly towards me, after her initial yet brief hesitation. From that point onwards, this blue-eyed brunette had me intrigued.

Initially, I was amused by her methods and the continual stuff ups. It was remarkable how often her pursuits involved food flinging, rolling in garbage, sometimes being tossed into a dumpster, chasing down alleyways littered with all kinds of filth. In the midst of all that mayhem, fire also featured in that repertoire and car bombs. Madre Dios. My heart started to be aquiver with each car bomb. Driving those POS cars to start with was a worry, but that was all she could afford.

I became aware of her desperate need for funds when I heard her whine at Connie at the lack of FTAs available on more than one occasion and thus revealed her need to pay her rent and utilities. Usually one of the Rangemen would get the files from the Bond Office. At times it was convenient for me as I needed to discuss some issues with that weasel Vinnie. I liked Stephanie's reaction to me, especially when she wasn't aware that I was there. So call me crazy. I was playing with her.

But really, she was my Eliza to my Henry Higgins. I had offered to get her started since initially she had no idea but was determined to make a real go of it because there was no choice in her mind. So in my role as Henry Higgins and as her mentor, it was the obvious place to meet her to see that she was keeping to the plan and using her wits and ultimately, keeping safe. This was not a job for the faint-hearted.

But I stopped playing with her when I started to worry about her, primarily her safety, her cars and her financial status. So I offered her a car, just one in the beginning. Who knew it would be more than one? After the Porsche was pancaked and blown up by that garbage truck in such spectacular style, I realised that her welfare was important to me which compelled me to protect her.

That day when she brought me the charred remains of the registration tag and that number plate stays firmly imprinted in my brain. Her body language and emotions were all over the place and in a moment of weakness I added to her many problems by kissing her. I couldn't resist her. She was beautiful and tempting and sent my hormones into turmoil. I just needed to taste her, soothe my hunger as it were.

How was this possible? This little white bread girl from the Burg had enchanted me so unwittingly. Her first FTA happened to be Morelli. I was furious with Vinnie and I certainly let him know. That she called me to rescue her when she was handcuffed, naked, to the shower rail in her apartment still makes me smile. It certainly tested my gallantry amongst other things. She was more fired up and fuming to be embarrassed, even as I teased her. It was such a delicious sight like she'd been served up on a silver platter. Many a night have I fantasised about that vision of loveliness before going to sleep or woken up dreaming about her in that scenario. Instantly, I realised how dangerous her circumstances were because of that fucker Morelli and it still has me roiling with anger. He seriously compromised her safety. To think I nearly sent Santos to sort her out had me shaking my head.

Another aspect about Stephanie that really stunned me was also evident from that initial encounter. She wasn't about to be intimidated by me nor did she objectify me as most women do. This intrigued me all the more. While I was her mentor, I felt a sense of responsibility to keep her safe and have done ever since. So shoot me, I can be noble and chivalrous. Besides, she sees me as some sort of super hero, Batman. Yes, she was affected by my presence, but that was mutual and I was more skilled at concealing it.

So, when I encountered her at the Bonds Office, I would ask her to come outside, into the alley, for a word or two. Her proximity with those blue eyes looking up at me as I positioned myself closely so that she _had_ to look up had my interest piqued. She was so responsive and her face blushed as a myriad of emotions ran through her mind. Touching her hair, finding that lost curl and tucking it neatly away. Running my finger along her jawline, so mesmerising watching her reaction. Stolen kisses in the alley. Making out. It sounded all so high school. But I found her so irresistible. An infatuation or an obsession, perhaps?

After she had single-handedly brought Morelli in and cleared his name things changed. She and Morelli started to become an item and it seemed they had history. But I know from her response to my proximity that she had feelings for me. I wasn't prepared to let go of this luscious forbidden fruit. I had a hunger for more, a craving and it was something less lascivious than lust, somewhere between lust and the other L word.

With my need to protect her I had to have eyes on her, discreetly, following her moves, tracking her progress and just being aware of her well-being. Had I become her stalker? My inherent need to protect and guard tells me no. The intense sense of relief I had every time I rushed to the scene of one of her car explosions was palpable. Seeing her with my own eyes was necessitated so that I was able to focus and move on with my day.

Watching that fucker Morelli berate her each time did him no favours. I could tell that she'd had enough this time. She didn't need it. She didn't deserve it. He'd betrayed her so many times and worst of all, his yelling and criticism were so unjustified and so publicly humiliating. But listening, I noticed it was more about him than her. Never did he ask how she was. That baffled me. Selfish prick! He didn't deserve her. Some boyfriend. Why did she stay with him? But never for long.

Often, I was the first on the scene even before the first responders and nearly always before that asshole Morelli, I made sure of that. I always made sure that she was okay. Her relief at seeing me was another tell. Me asking how she was and if she needed anything was totally a natural part of my persona and a huge contrast to that fuckwit with all his wild gesticulations. I felt the relief to. I had to see her, touch and know for sure.

I drove on for a while as all these reflections and memories flashed through my mind. Some were sweet, many were confusing and contradictory. Somehow, I think, I feel, I know she has reached an impasse and her request in the TPD parking lot just now reinforced that feeling. Yeah. She was moving on in a different direction and she came to me. I was feeling good. I glanced at her, still peacefully sleeping, her pouty lips parted … oh so tempting. Down boy. All in good time.

Stephanie as we know is independent. She is reluctant to ask for help in her role as a bounty hunter although she has taken her sidekick Lula along with her which frequently ended in disaster, more often than not. After making a suggestion to her of the availability of utilising our advanced computer search engines, Stephanie has occasionally approached Rangeman. In seeking information she is quite formidable combining research with local knowledge and good instincts. She knows people, people from the Burg, Chambersburg, and has her sources for more recent details.

Thinking about the scenario that led us to this drive I realised something. As it turns out, between all the splutter and Italian arm waving, Morelli actually made _two_ good points. That Stephanie could do better was the first. She walked away from him and that to me was a well-grounded, rational choice. She was calm, cool and collected.

But the second point he made was about moving out of that shitty apartment of hers. That may take some encouragement and I need to ask her what she would like to do about that, if she would consider a change.

I slowed down as we approached the end of this drive. Sensing the change in the car engine, her eyes fluttered open.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drop off like that," she said rather sheepishly.

Her eyes opened wide with a happy smile as she sat up and looked out of the windscreen. She beamed at me.

"How is it that you always understand what I need?" She sighed contentedly.

I stepped out and ran around the car to open her door. She stood up and breathed in the clean, fresh sea air.

"Good thinking, Batman."

She made a stretch causing her shirt to lift up and expose the bare skin of her midriff. I gently ran my finger along her back and whispered in her ear as she shivered,

"Let's get an ice cream from the boardwalk. C'mon."

I sat on the beach watching her walk to the water's edge, carrying her shoes in one hand. She looked at me and grinned giving me the 'come-on-over-here' nod. Of course, I obeyed.

"Thanks for getting me away from there, Ranger. It was ... um … a bit more emotional than I realised."

"Adrenalin, Babe. After dealing with that reluctant asshole skip and the rough treatment that you endured," I ran my fingers lightly over her swollen lip and her bruised face, "you were still pumping. Ram was inside and heard you deal with the betting ring and he was impressed at your coolness and effrontery. Your strength brooked no argument."

"Yeah. I had a gutful of all their shit. I reached a point when I realised it was up to me to stop it and cut them off at the kneecaps."

"Then you bumped into your boyfriend, Morelli."

"Now listen here. He is _not_ my boyfriend, so don't you start!" I could see her eyes start to blaze with anger. "He has perpetuated that myth. I gave him his marching orders over six months ago. Because I dumped him, he cannot let it go. He still thinks I will walk back like some love sick cow. It is over." The last part was said through clenched teeth. Her hands were on her hips and she was all fired up.

"It's all right, Babe. I'm sorry. That was remiss of me. Forgive me, please?"

I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes in genuine remorse. I just had to know for sure. It sort of irked me that it might still be a temporary break. But, she made that clear. Thankfully she smiled calmly at me and nodded in acceptance.

"See. That's what I'm saying. You had all these problems and issues and I don't mind that you dozed off in my car. So don't feel bad. But I am proud of you, really proud. You handled Morelli and then your mother with assertive control and kept your cool. "

"Yeah. It kind of felt good, you know, like a huge weight was off my mind, twice."

"Let's go, unless you want to stay here longer? I overheard you telling your Mom that you have a date tonight, a date with destiny."

This brought out her full smile.

"I might have to ask my boss for the rest of the afternoon off."

"I can put in a good word for you, if you like?" I grinned at her playfulness.

"Sure. That was just what I needed." She grabbed my arm and together we walked to my car.

This time when I adjusted her seatbelt, after ghosting over her lips, I kissed her tenderly being mindful of the swelling on one side. She hummed and moaned.

As we drove back one of the songs on my playlist made me smile. 'Feeling Good' with Michael Bublé. Ha. The perfect song. I started to hum it and glanced over at Stephanie looking at me surprised but smiling.

"What?"

"Ranger."

"Babe."

"You sing."

"Yup."

"This should be my song, you know."

"Let's do it then."

I hit replay. So I sang the words to her as I drove, definitely feeling good. She laughed and joined in. That's how the return drive evolved, happy and animated, the car filled with laughter, teasing banter and feeling good.

^^"^^"^^"^^"

 _TBC with the dinner date on 7 7_

 _A/N I was only planning on doing a one shot with Making Moves. Thanks to Margaret for the prompt and encouraging me and all your reviews wanting more._

 _So this short has become 2 chapters and is now_ _ **moving on**_ _to 3. Stay tuned._


	3. Moving On

_Welcome to the New Year. I hope 2017 is a wonderful, happy and healthy one for us all._

 _I am on holidays (happy dance) and it's a very hot summer here. I'm having a Staycation, a vacation where you happily stay home. Since I started this little story, with a very busy end of year schedule which just became more hectic as it came to the end,_ _ **Making Moves**_ _lay temporarily dormant but_ _not_ _forgotten. My Muse has been on fire and distracted since school finished and decided to continue_ _ **No Standing**_ _with a few more chapters (100 words), a short called_ _ **Phoenix**_ _, another story started called_ _ **Breaking Out**_ _and another short called_ _ **Home**_ _. Call it Holiday distractions … Holidaze._ _)))_

 _But we are back on the same page and here it is. My Muse is very happy. Enjoy!_

All familiar characters belong to JE. I'm just playing with them.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

CHAPTER 3

 **MOVING ON**

 **Ranger's POV**

After I dropped her off at her apartment, I drove back to Haywood on auto pilot. When I glanced in the mirror I was surprised at my own reflection. It was relaxed and happy, an aspect of my personality which I rarely revealed. Did she do this to me? Unequivocally yes. Did she see the change in my usually well-mastered, contained blank face? No doubt. Oh hell. Since when do I sing? _Dios_. I really let my guard down. It was a fun ride back. _Fun_? Who is this person? _Madre dios_! She has put a spell on me!

Talk about giving information to the enemy … so much for a stealthy, smooth flirtation and seduction. Yes. I had made that decision, giving myself permission to romance this amazing blue-eyed beauty. I didn't want to rush but I had been stupid and wasted so much time already. We both have a degree of responsibility to consider any commitment to each other, long term that is, more than our brief encounters in the alley beside the Bonds Office.

The return journey had been very relaxed and pleasant. Bobby, Lester and Tank are gonna give me shit for sure. I tried to school my face and resume my usual stoic demeanour but my eyes still had to come to the party. I'm in trouble. Ooh, yeah, big trouble. Lester, no Tank will be the first to detect a miniscule of difference. He already knows what went down outside the TPD.

Of course, I had walked her to her door and checked inside for any lurking intruders and dangerous threats. When I turned around to give her the all clear I just about knocked her off her feet since I stopped so suddenly. I caught her as she bounced off my chest finding ourselves face to face as if I had just dipped her in a dance.

"I got you, Babe"

She caught her breath, muttering, "Oh! You sure have. You're so hard, but in a nice way." She blushed as soon as the words escaped that pouty mouth and her blue eyes widened as she chewed her bottom lip. If only she knew.

I leaned down bringing my lips closer to hers and whispered, "I know some dance moves that will get us in this position more smoothly … without any … _hard_ bumps. I'd like to take you dancing Stephanie, perhaps on another date, soon? Real dancing, I'm not a fan of the bump and grind scene."

I brushed my lips lightly over hers with a chaste kiss before slowly and deliberately raising her to the upright position, maintaining eye contact but not letting her go. She was all flushed and discombobulated, her breathing ratcheted up a bit. Nice. Back in control, _Mañoso_. She nodded slowly.

Once she was steady on her feet I made a miniscule step back, still not letting go. I tucked a wispy stray curl behind her ear and gently ran my finger along her jaw and under her bottom lip. She was mesmerised, those blue eyes so captivating. I kissed her, gently at first, still mindful of her bruises but she tasted so sweet that I had to have more and deepened the kiss. Easing back I smiled and gave her a peck on the nose and then on her forehead.

"Would you like me to pick you up this evening? Or perhaps you would prefer someone to collect you? Or … would you rather drive yourself?"

"Yes."

"Babe?"

"Hmm …?"

"Which one?"

She paused as if she were replaying the questions and with that came clarity.

With a pout and a coy expression she replied, "You really don't want my POS car in your garage, do you, Ranger?" Trust her to come back from left field. I laughed out loud. She grinned a Gotcha Grin. Good.

"Well played, Babe."

"I like this Happy Ranger. You should let him come out to play more often."

I smiled at the thought. Later, Babe. Happy Ranger would be more than willing and _happy_ to play, but I'm sure I kept that last bit to myself. She smiled knowingly. Oh, Stephanie is being playful. Good recovery, Babe.

"I could say the same, Babe. I like Playful Stephanie. She's smart and sassy. You might want to let her out more often, too. I know that 'Happy Ranger' would love to see more of her …" Oh yes, Babe, definitely **more** of you. I gave her my best wolf grin.

"Now who's playing with fire? But, what about all the other Rangers?"

Coy and then concerned. I quirked my eyebrow in surprise.

What the fuck?! What other Rangers?! Her chuckle and a rib poke broke my sudden flare of jealousy. I was already visualising breaking a few Rangers' bones to keep them away from her.

Her eyes had a mischievous glint as if she seemed to recognise my raging mind tearing them apart. Busted! She was all out smiling. Yep. She had read my mind.

"Oh, Babe. Is this how you want to play? The _other_ Rangers, as in **not** other Rangers, but _my_ other Rangers?"

Her lips tightened as if she wasn't about to tell and then she did that cute chewing of her lip. Confident but coy as well. This could be fun. She nodded slightly looking up at me through those long lashes. So I stole another kiss.

I had been such an ass. Feeding her those stupid non-relationship disclaimers, provisos and bullshit. _Dios_. I was such an idiot. Here she was, unconditionally, playing with me, playing me at my own game, even besting me. Since when did she turn the tables? Time to regroup.

"How about Plan D? What would _you_ like to do? I did invite you to have dinner with me, so etiquette and social protocol designates that I should come to your door and take you there."

She pondered this.

"D is for **D** estiny so I will **D** rive over, Ranger."

"Okay. So, I'll see you, at seven," I kissed her once more, a light kiss, "on seven." With another kiss I left, her eyes following my every move. She finger-waved me as I closed the door. I jogged down the stairs feeling light and happy inside.

As I started the car I had to smile. What an interesting thought … my car revs her hormones. Sure, I knew that, it was just fun. I had to chuckle at that comment and file that away. Revving hormones could be a new mission. I contemplated the potential and my options. I didn't want to move too fast, a slow burn with a bit of pressure here and there. Applying pressure … that's my forte. My new mission: the Seduction of Stephanie. Hey. A very interesting take on SOS. Ah! Who am I kidding? Slow burn? It's already about to combust into a wildfire. Bring it on!

I casually strolled into the Control Room and Tank took one long look at me and grinned. Yeah, one of those shit eating grins.

"About time you got your head outa your ass, Rangeman!"

I knuckle bumped him and couldn't stop the grin.

"Nothing happened, Pierre."

"Not yet, but you're making moves in the right direction. No reverse man. Don't stuff it up. Man up and capture her heart because there's a veritable queue here alone, if you fuck it up." He warned.

"Point taken. But with due respect, especially for Stephanie, it's none of anyone's business what we do or don't do from here."

"Understood. I'll make sure that we all show respect to that special woman. We all love her. Take care of her."

That said, I nodded and made for my office.

"Man, she was hot! Did you see how she dealt with that fucker Morelli?! She's serious, man. She has the hots for you big time."

Ram joined the conversation.

"You should have seen her inside. Take-no-shit Stephanie was firing both barrels. She put them straight with their betting. You should have seen their faces when she called them on their shit and for not even asking how she was when she came in like she did with her black eye, cuts and bruises. But you could have heard a pin drop when she first walked in with her skip all submissive and embarrassed. Man, I was so proud of her."

Hal joined the party as well, nodding his head in agreement. He chuckled.

"Yeah. We just gave that skip a few lessons in respect and how to treat a lady. Just because he fucked up and was all FTA, he shouldn't take it out on Stephanie. We just reminded him gently like, you know. But she sorted that asshole Morelli! Left him stunned before he started to ramp up his abuse. She just ignored him. I thought she'd surely give him the bird but, nothing. She didn't give a shit about him anymore. Pissed him right off! Stupid fucker. He doesn't deserve her."

"Hells to the yeah!" Santos concurred. They all nodded in agreement.

I stood there, arms folded, watching and listening quietly. Lester grinned at me.

"She's got you, Ranger! Glad you are making moves. No holding back now Cuz."

Here he put his hands up in a stop defensive motion.

"And _before_ you say it, no disrespect to Steph. No way. She is far too important. You know how we all feel about her. She makes us feel human again. We don't want to lose her. Be good to her, 'Batman'."

He quickly ducked and sidestepped before I could clip him one behind the ears.

"Are you all done gossiping? Haven't you got work to do, or shall I give the guys on monitors a welcome break?"

Like big black rats they scurried away to their cubicles, Santos giggling hysterically. I shook my head. I'm surrounded by idiots. He was pushing my buttons with the 'Batman' reference. But really, I didn't mind. I have to admit I like that she calls me Batman, like I'm some super hero.

I was pleased to hear their pride in Stephanie. And he's right. She has made us all feel human, unlike other women who see us as man meat with money and muscles. Again, it's amazing that a little white bread girl from the Burg could make us all feel worthy. Stephanie Plum has amazing powers. Wonder Woman indeed.

I mused this some more at my desk and then planned my evening date. I rang Ella and made arrangements for dinner. She was pleased and suggested some dessert as well because we all know how much Stephanie likes dessert. Yes. My Stephanie has had an impact on each and every one of us in this building.

After a couple of hours of paperwork and phone calls, I leaned back and stretched. Time to move on upstairs, so I shut down my computer. Giving Tank a nod after checking in with the guys on monitors, I made for the stairwell.

Fresh flowers were on the sideboard where I place my keys. Nice touch, Ella. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was excited too. Man, I feel like a fish in a fishbowl. Have to play this carefully, there's a lot at stake. I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and glanced at the dining table. Yes. Ella was planning a romantic dinner with candles and an ambient setting. Stole my thunder, but she knows what I want. I went to the bathroom and prepared for my evening.

Ella came in early with her food trolley and placed the dishes in the warmer, placing the dessert in the fridge. She looked up at me and smiled.

"She's special, Ranger." Nothing else was said but there was a whole raft of unspoken words behind that simple statement.

"I know, Ella. Thank you. Dinner smells delicious."

She patted my arm, with a warning look and then smiled as she left. I knew that look, just like my mother.

Before long I heard the elevator and there was a gentle knock at the door. Perfect timing, Babe. Opening it slowly I smiled at her, looking radiant and confident in her jeans and an off the shoulder blue top that looked decidedly sexy.

"Hey Batman," she teased as she walked under my arm. "You look nice." But then went on to say, "in a sexy non-black way."

I grabbed her hand and pulled her back to me as I closed the door to my apartment and locked it. She came in close and looked up at me with a smile then scrunched her eyes closed tossing her curly head back when I wolf grinned at her.

"I did it again, didn't I? Out loud?" I nodded and kissed her bare shoulder.

"You look beautiful, Stephanie, very sexy in this top."

"No fair. You say it loud and it's okay. Thank you." She pouted playfully.

I pulled her against me and kissed her slow and languorously, my hands gently cradling her face. She moulded into my body like a perfect fit and I wrapped my arms around her tightly.

"I've wanted to do that all day," I said into her neck. "Mmm. You smell nice too."

Her arms wrapped around my back and scratched over my shirt. I growled in contentment and kissed her once more lingering in the corner with my tongue teasing there, and I pulled back since her mouth was still a bit swollen from today's earlier encounter.

"Are you okay?" as I took inventory of her injuries.

She nodded.

"I am now, for sure."

And, as if on cue, her stomach growled its customary roar. We both laughed.

"Hungry, Babe?"

She blushed, "Sorry. It's a bit obvious."

"Come."

I led her by the hand to the dining table and sat her down with a kiss to her temple. The candle flickered lightly and with the soft music, the atmosphere was already ambient and romantic. I sat beside her after I brought the dishes to the table. I lifted the lid and she breathed in the aromas eagerly.

"Mmmm … that smells divine."

We ate in harmonious silence until Stephanie began to moan and then more with each mouthful. I was so glad she was enjoying this. I had asked Ella for her special arroz con pollo, one of my favourite traditional Cuban chicken and rice dishes.

As she moaned and wriggled with each mouthful our legs brushed closer together. Between the wriggling and her moans it was very arousing and I found myself watching her in wonder. I had to adjust myself with the tightness in my jeans. What she does to me, she has no idea.

Suddenly she stopped. "You're not eating, Ranger. This is so scrumptious. I just love this, it's so tasty."

"I can tell." I leaned in and dabbed her chin with her napkin. "Do you realise how sexy you sound when you are savouring each mouthful?"

"Um … no. Sorry. You not hungry?"

"Oh, don't be sorry, Babe. Yes. I am hungry. If I have to be honest, I'm hungry for you." I pulled her chin to me and kissed her again. "Dios. You taste so good."

She picked up my fork and fed me and I did the same for her watching her eyes, her mouth, and those lips. She was so enticing and alluring. I topped her wine glass and we finished our meal watching each other. She too was aroused. I rubbed her thigh and she whimpered. I took her hand in mine and entwined our fingers, bringing her hand to my mouth so I could kiss the back of her hand and her palm and her wrist. She shivered while watching me intently.

I cleared the dishes from the table and turned to her and said, "Let's dance a bit, before we have dessert." I pulled her chair out and brought her close to me. We were a perfect fit like two jigsaw puzzle pieces. It felt so good, so right, and so pleasurable. We moved with graceful ease, Stephanie following my moves closely as if we had done this together before, as if we belonged. Now there's a thought. When the tempo changed to the familiar and sexy tones of bachata, she allowed me to lead her with the soft hip movements. Our closeness was very arousing. I have never enjoyed bachata before as much as this with Stephanie in my arms, moving her willing body to the sexy, sensual rhythm. I couldn't resist but kiss her again and she reciprocated with passion indicating she wanted more and was as hungry for me as I was for her. We came up for air when the need for oxygen demanded it. Dios. This sexy woman has me in raptures of desire. It was taking all my will power not to just scoop her up but before I could finish that thought, she made my wish come true.

"Let's skip dessert, Ranger. I want you. I want you now." I kissed her again, lifted her up and walked to my bedroom slowly as she wrapped her long legs around me. Who was I to question her request?

I walked her through the lounge and into my bedroom and closed the door.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

TBC


	4. Moving Forward

" _Let's skip dessert, Ranger. I want you. I want you now." I kissed her again, lifted her up and walked to my bedroom slowly as she wrapped her long legs around me. Who was I to question her request?_

 _I walked her through the lounge and into my bedroom and closed the door._

All familiar characters belong to Janet. I'm just playing with them and imagining … sigh.

 **Chapter 4: Moving Forward**

 **Stephanie's POV**

I woke up slowly feeling good but aching in all sorts of places, good places, good aches. I think I must have run a marathon. No, scratch that, maybe a cardio routine. Pfft. I don't run. I giggled and the bed suddenly moved. I froze my hand feeling behind me. Omigod! I grabbed something warm and hard. Oops. I rolled over to see the most luscious warm brown eyes with the full 200 watts grinning at me since I hadn't let go.

"You're still here." I whispered a bit dumbfounded.

He kissed my forehead and smiled. God he's gorgeous, all over gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?

"Perhaps, because you are in **my** bed, Babe. And … I think I am the lucky one. Besides, I don't think I am going anywhere soon it seems …"

I followed his eyes to where they were indicating. Oh boy. My hand was fondling him, without my permission. I looked up into those warm brown eyes and I almost swooned. Am I dreaming? Maybe a cold shower will do.

His husky voice brought me back to the here and now.

"You are very much awake, Stephanie, and you are one hot, sexy Wonder Woman."

I blushed but before I could turn my head away his finger steered my chin so that I was looking up into his beautiful face.

This earned me one helluva kiss. I was breathless and wanting more.

"Don't sell yourself short, Batman. Have you seen you? I have seen all of you and there's a lot to like. I mean, really, these abs are to die for, and the rest of your body ain't half bad either and your eyes, Omigod! And, yeahhh, all melted chocolate and … yeah … and that smile, that smile is a real winner. And these lips …. Omigod. Please stop me, I'm rambling."

He kissed me with a chuckle. Then he looked at me with a lustful smile and pounced on me with his lips. Man could he kiss.

After another cardio workout (Yeah, I know) I really needed to go to the bathroom. He joined me in the shower which led to another round of lovin'. Man he had such stamina. And he wasn't kidding either. Ranger is more than good in the shower. Not that I was complaining but, holy batwings, Batman! You the Man!

We collapsed on the bed and rested for a while. I woke up some time later, like nearly three hours later, to the smell of fresh coffee. Well, I was still in bed and this time I was alone.

Ranger was very happy as he walked in wearing his sweat pants carrying a large tray laden with coffee and breakfast!

"Aw. No one has ever brought me breakfast in bed, ever!" He beamed at me.

I was almost misty-eyed. Jeez he looked so sexy in those low slung sweats and that gorgeous body all on display, for me. Maybe I should have my breakfast on that!

"We can do that if you wish, Babe."

Omigod! Please shoot me now. I blushed profusely covering my face to hide the evidence. He set the tray down, gently peeled my hands away from my face and smiled with those melting pot eyes.

"Whichever way you like it, Stephanie. But for now, here's your coffee," as he handed me a steaming mug with a kiss to my temple once my hands steadied and were able to hold it safely and independently.

Making ourselves comfortable, propped up with pillows against the bed head, we sat in comfortable silence sipping our coffees. I sighed and he smiled. Once we had been caffeinated he offered the breakfast tray and lifted the lid. Crepes, nice thin French crepes with strawberries and blueberries and cream and maple syrup! I'm in heaven. I think I might have moaned since Ranger grinned. He forked a strawberry and brought it to my lips after he had dunked it liberally in the cream. What a man!

"You're a keeper, Batman. I think I might keep you forever and never let you go."

I licked some cream off the strawberry before biting into it, as he watched my mouth. Mm-mm. Best way to have strawberries … well, unless it was served on his washboard abs! Whoo! Omigod. Is it hot in here?

He fed me some of the crepe which he had rolled with some of the fruit, cream and maple syrup.

 **Ranger's POV**

Man, have I been stupid! I lay there while she was still asleep reflecting on our night of lust and loving. This beautiful bombshell still has no idea how she has gotten totally under my skin in the nicest possible way. How I ever sent her back to that asshole Morelli the last time still has me kicking myself. Trying to protect her, thinking he was the better man. As soon as I had closed the door I felt like a real heel after I saw the shattered look in her eyes. What a moron I was. Being noble. _Dios_. I was protecting my own heart. As my Abuela recently said, "For a smart man, how you can be so stupid!"

I was in denial. I couldn't stop thinking about her, those eyes, those lips, her lovely curves and the sounds she made. Many nights were spent replaying that night of 'the deal'. She was so cute, especially when she had the red wine. Putting pressure on her like I did in the parking lot of that building while we were observing our FTA du jour. I kept her close on surveillances, some distractions (I might have been the most distracted) and in the alley. Each time Morelli hurled his abuse at her my hands were itching to give him one. But I made sure she was safe, first on the scene as often as I could, being a close guardian when Morelli was about to fly off in his usual Italian arm-waving rant. Stolen kisses and make-out sessions in the alley and gentle touches at all other times, was all I could do without pouncing on her like a club-waving Neanderthal. I wanted to make her mine. But she still had feelings for that asshat.

Now here we are again, in bed after a night of unforgettable lovemaking as I admired her sleeping form next to me, cherishing her, thinking how lucky I am, warning myself not to make the same stupid mistake. My Abuela knew instantly that I was in love, probably before I was prepared to admit it to myself. I thought it was lust but with each mishap, rescue and car bomb, I realised the lust become love, stronger each time; after Stiva, after Abruzzi and so many other dangerous predicaments. Hector hit me upside one day and threatened to steal her heart if I wasn't going to man up! Hector. Yeah. If any woman could make him change sides, Stephanie was the one. Tank and Lester were on my case as well.

I was contemplating going down to the gym as I gently pulled the sheet up, shamelessly admiring her sinful body. It was more than just her beauty. She was stunning inside and out. Oh, inside. _Dios_. I couldn't get enough of her. My hunger was beyond quenched but I still wanted more. I hope I didn't hurt her. But she was just as hungry as I was.

If I leave to go down to the gym, that would not end well. The guys would know instantly once they saw my face and my back with her scratches. I'm not disrespecting her in that way. What happens on seven stays on seven. Pfft. I'm sure they've already worked it out. Besides, she might wake up early before I return and it would appear to be a repeat of our first magical night. I smiled, remembering how she called me the Wizard. No. I am staying, watching her as her lips moved provocatively, her wild curls splayed over her pillow. I like having her in my bed, waking up beside her, with her warm body against mine. I felt a calm wash over me. I want it. I want it all, I suddenly realised. If I was the Wizard, she was bewitching as the Enchantress. She broke my walls and captured my heart unequivocally. I loved her but in truth, I was _in_ love with her.

After a visit to the bathroom I rang Ella and ordered a pot of coffee and breakfast for about three hours later. I could hear her smile as she offered to make crepes with fresh fruit and cream. I thanked her and quietly hopped back into bed.

Stephanie had rolled over and I could see her slowly starting to rouse. Stretching lazily and moaning, making incoherent talking sounds and then muttering about running and cardio had me smiling. She giggled and I couldn't stop myself from chuckling. As soon as she felt the bed move with my contained chuckle she startled, reached behind her, and took a firm grip of my growing manhood and rolled over. Oh man. Best way to wake up as I gave her my 100 watts. She gasped but did not release me as she grasped me tightly and then continued fondling me unwittingly.

Now after we had rested from our morning make-out and loving sessions, she once again sweeps me off my feet with her amusing mutterings and disclosures. That I can make her blush with a compliment is sweet, although a part of me is annoyed since she is obviously not accustomed to getting compliments. How can that be? But then again, between her sniping mother and that asshole Morelli, and that other asshole, Dickie! What man calls himself Dickie? She probably didn't get too much warmth from them and others.

Her sweet ramblings made me smile and I had to save her with a sweet interrupting deep and sensuous kiss. She warms my heart and I don't ever recall smiling so much in my life as now, in her presence.

Her disclosures when I brought in the breakfast tray almost rendered me speechless! Interesting. Something to file away, as once again she gives information to the enemy. Stephanie wants to play those games. And then she calls me 'a keeper'. All joking aside, I could tell she meant it from the heart. Wanting to eat off my abs had me coveting that thought lustily.

Feeding her the strawberry and then the crepe had my appetite wanting as she ate hungrily. I watched her lips and was so aroused that I forgot I was holding a maple syrup dipped strawberry on the fork poised for her next mouthful, when it suddenly drizzled onto my stomach, my abs to be exact. It was like slow motion. Her eyes widened and we both held our breaths. Slowly she removed the fork from my fingers and smooshed the strawberry onto my abs! _Madre Dios!_ She crawled up to me on hands and knees and grinned lasciviously. I watched as her breasts swung and her tongue came out to lick the syrup. She nibbled the smooshed strawberry deliberately taking her time and taking nips of my abs. The wicked grin she gave me was so seductive. I grabbed the tray and quickly disposed of it on the bedside table, almost knocking the coffee mug down. I didn't care.

In the same instant she had straddled my lap and pounced on me taking my lips in a fierce and passionate kiss, nipping and biting. I wrenched a condom from the drawer and she snatched it, dressing me before impaling herself fully with a ragged gasp. I completely lost control and we were practically feral in our frenzied attack on one another.

We lay there totally spent our bodies still joined, glistening with sweat. I slowly and reluctantly extracted myself, tossing the condom in the waste paper basket beside the bucket chair.

"Man …"

"Mmm ..."

"Wow …"

" **Mmm** ..."

"That was …"

"Mmm-mmm ..."

I rolled over and smiled down at her beautiful glowing face. She smiled back languorously. I kissed her slow and deep.

"Yeahhh. That was like, wow, Batman. Mmm. You the Wizard all right." She sighed and beamed at me, still trying to catch her breath.

"You never disappoint, Babe."

TBC


	5. Hunger, Contemplations and Realisations

All familiar characters belong to Janet. I'm just playing with them and imagining … sigh. She got it wrong and we all know what's best for our girl, Stephanie. The mistakes are mine alone.

 **Chapter 5: Hunger, Contemplations and Realisations**

 **Ranger's POV**

"You know, I'm still hungry …" she said with a lingering tone as blue orbs sparkled at me. She half rolled and stretched languidly exposing her long neck at me before she glanced up and down my naked body.

Yes, there was hunger in her eyes. _Dios_. What have I done? I think I gulped but looking at her I saw mischief over her glowing face. Even her body was glowing and I felt a certain smug pride that I could have that effect on her.

"Hungry?" I asked somewhat hesitantly – I didn't want to jump to conclusions.

"Uh huh," she confirmed slowly stretching her arms above her head.

"For …?"

"For you."

"Again?"

She grinned. She nodded with suggestive eyes lifting her eyebrows before she burst out laughing.

"You know that pulling the tiger's tail can be very dangerous, Babe." I warned her, laughing along and wrestling her onto her back before kissing her deeply. I tickled her and she screamed with delight, squirming under my ministrations before I captured her lips again. I allowed her to catch her breath and sat straddled across her hips holding her arms above her head with one hand. She was looking up at me all wanton and sexy. I ran a finger down from her temple, along her bottom lip and her jawline and her neck, to her collarbone leading a slow path to her breasts and her navel to where we were joined as I sat astride the Heavenly Haven, my nirvana.

"The things you do to me, Babe." Her breasts looked so neglected yet inviting that I had to share the love with them which lead to a slow luscious session of love making.

While I disposed of yet another condom, she was splayed across my bed, sated and gloriously relaxed and boneless. At this rate I might have to get more supplies!

I decided to run a bath for her to ease her aches and recovery. I added some soothing Bulgari since she likes it so much. I set the candles out and put some light music on.

I came into the bedroom to see her lazily propped up on one elbow devouring the rest of the crepes and strawberries, moaning with each mouthful. The blueberries had already been consumed.

"So, you were more than just hungry for me …"

I tried for disappointment but she won me with her cheeky grin and wiped her mouth with the napkin before responding.

"A girl cannot live on love alone, Batman. I needed some more sustenance," she confessed coyly as she polished off the last strawberry and shamelessly licked the plate clean of the remaining maple syrup, deliberately licking her fingers slowly and sensuously. I growled.

"Mmm. That feels a bit better."

"I have a bath running for you to soak in and recuperate."

"Awww. In that big tub? Omigod. You are a God among men. I feel totally spoilt."

I left to check the bath level and to light the little candles as I dimmed the lights. Coming into the bedroom she was still flat out and boneless.

"C'mon, Babe. I'll help you get in."

"Oh. Bathroom first, please."

I propped a towel roll for a headrest and gently placed her within the tub. She stood there admiring the candles and the ambience, a veritable Aphrodite in my bathroom. She was indeed my Aphrodite, the Greek Goddess of Love, Beauty, Grace, Sex, Attraction, Sexual Rapture, Desire, Seduction, Pleasure and Happiness. She was the full package. And I was _in_ love with her.

She moaned blissfully as she slowly sank down amongst the bubbles bringing me out of my momentary spell of rapture. I kissed her swollen lips and left her to soak whispering in her ear my intentions as I hopped into the shower. I let the water soak into my hair as I leaned against the shower wall, savouring the past 12, no, 16 hours!

Oh what a night! I am so done. Her date with Destiny was powerful, mind blowing and totally amazing. I am so whipped. I can't get enough of her. She's like an addiction, I have to have more. How fortuitous that she called it that, a date with Destiny. She is my Destiny, I felt it the first time she walked into that diner so long ago.

I couldn't and wouldn't believe then, that a little white bread girl from the Burg could possibly have me so undone. From that initial encounter, then me being Henry Higgins to her Eliza, somehow she had wormed her way under my skin and into my heart. She became an intrigue, cute, and, I'm embarrassed to admit, very entertaining with her unorthodox methods and continual mess ups. But I have to give her credit for her grit and determination. She was not going to give up, nor break down in tears when things went wrong. Yes, she got frustrated and angry but her uncanny pick-yourself- up-when-you're-down-no-matter-what had me admiring her spunk and perseverance. I was certain she'd be throwing in the towel before the end of the week, a month at the most. Seems I underestimated her resolve.

Somewhere along that journey, watching her, mentoring her led to worrying about her and, yes, I began to care. The need to see her became more than desire, something more intense, a craving and a hunger. That asshole Morelli was not good for her. He didn't appreciate what a gem he had in her. Their history was what threw me. How could she be with him after all his earlier abuse? That part I found incredulous. He was a known player but I realised that he not only didn't appreciate her, he didn't _deserve_ her. I stayed back in the shadows, watching her, watching him. That fucker was more than a player,

Once that realisation hit me I stayed back in the shadows, watching her, watching him, very cautiously. I didn't trust the bastard as far as I could throw him.

It didn't take long for him to verify my suspicions. That fucker was definitely not loyal. He was more than a player. He was a nasty abuser, the kind of man who uses women for personal favours. Stark Street girls were a classic example there under the threat of taking them in for soliciting. He was no better than a pimp; motel booty calls; a quick blowjob in the alley. With each indiscretion my anger was fuelled with revulsion and utter contempt.

Coincidentally, Hector too had been on the prowl, taking photos 'as evidence', he'd said. He made the universal slow throat slitting sign and a rapid severing of Morelli's cock with a sinister grin. I shook my head. He nodded a fervent yes, while I indicated not yet. He proceeded to sharpen his blades with a new ardour.

Evidently, Hector came to the same conclusions as I did. He was very protective of Stephanie and since he had already seen Morelli in action prior to Stephanie becoming a bond enforcement agent, he knew where he lurked. Hector knew the streets better than anybody, one of the many reasons I hired him. Morelli's swagger was a dead giveaway. Incredibly, the girls did yield to his threats readily, almost like a favourite client. Go figure.

Since Stephanie cleared his name as her first FTA, he made advances towards her. When he realised I was mentoring her and involved in her welfare, his actions became more calculated. I was not entering into a pissing contest. Stephanie was her own person. Thankfully after many on and off times, and after we had that stupid, but wonderful and memorable 'The Deal' encounter from which I stupidly sent her back to Morelli, she finally had enough. I banged my head against the tiles repeatedly. I had been so stupid.

I shampooed my hair whilst contemplating some more.

Yes we had photos to repeatedly prove his infidelities, the philandering and the constant illegal use of his badge. He was a dirty cop and the men were furious, not for that especially, but because of how he treated Stephanie.

Hector had displayed some of the evidence and offered to share it anonymously with the Chief of the TPD. Another time, when the time is right I had commanded. They all volunteered to sort him out when the call came. One of our meetings was exclusively about this. I forbade any interference. If we told Stephanie or showed her the evidence, we could lose her. Her friendship, her trust, her light and her loyalty meant a lot to all of us. I would not stoop so low, as much as it churned inside me. I would be no better than Morelli trying to change her, and that witch of a mother. No. It had to be of her own volition, no matter what.

Morelli just used her, took advantage because he was a selfish man and she was familiar and convenient when he was between dalliances with Terri Gilman and those other women. Other than Terri and Stephanie, they were always younger, easier to manipulate. And that is exactly what he did with Stephanie, manipulate and use her, took her for granted and wanted to change her. She was responsible for many a solved crime for which he took the credit. Between the two of them, Morelli and her sniping mother, Stephanie was able to survive their constant put downs. They came close to wearing her down and bullying her into a marriage while I was in the wind. Thankfully, Hector and Tank intervened with work diversions. Her Merry Men kept her distracted and appreciated her skills and work ethic. It gave her a new focus and that sense of appreciation worked in our favour.

Patience was a trained and ingrained aspect of our careers and finally we were rewarded with a wonderful showdown, not just with Morelli but with her mother. If I recall, when she was on her cell phone to her Mom, Stephanie was looking directly at me when she said those wonderful words. "I have a date, a date with Destiny." I smiled at those words.

Good things come to those who wait.

"The longer you wait for something the more you appreciate it when you get it," my Abuela used to say in teaching me patience when I was a young, headstrong teenager.

"Because, anything worth having, is definitely worth waiting for."

How right she was.

I stepped out of the shower and towel-dried my hair. I looked at my reflection and I too had a glow about me, a happy glow. Did she do this to me? I wrapped a towel low over my hips and, feeling more energised, I watched her in the tub enjoying the soft music, eyes closed, humming to herself. How fortuitous, Michael Bublé again, with _Feeling Good_. Holding up a towel for her, she smiled up at me and with a sigh allowed me to help her out of the tub and wrap her in the soft white towel.

"That felt so luxurious, Ranger."

We dressed and went down to the garage taking the Porsche for a drive. I held her hand as we drove heading to the coast, one of her favourite go to places.

"I thought you might need some more sustenance, Babe." And, as if on cue, her stomach growled its need. We both laughed.

"I take that as affirmative."

Along the boardwalk we walked hand in hand, comfortable and content. She bought some sweet things and we shared some doughnuts and cotton candy. Further along we had some fries, a hot dog and a milkshake.

"Not a temple day, Ranger?"

I grinned my wolfish grin.

"I'll worship at your temple later." She blushed. I loved that she could be a wildcat in bed, but out in the open she can blush at a subtle innuendo so readily. I kissed her. PDAs? _Who is this man?_ I couldn't help myself.

As we walked down onto the beach with our ice creams, she became all quiet and pensive. When she's ready and got it sorted in her head, she might reveal her thoughts. I didn't have to wait long.

"Ranger?"

"Yeah, Babe?"

"That was special last night, and this morning." Again with the blush.

"It was more than special, Babe. It was amazing." I put my arms around her shoulders reassuringly. "Beyond special, Babe."

"Yeah. It was special, and amazing. You are the Wizard after all."

I cocked my head at her questioningly.

She looked far away across the horizon before turning into me and putting her arms around my waist and looked me in the eye.

"You know, I'm not going anywhere. Not anywhere far from you. I … I need you, Ranger. I need you in my life. Not just in the alley or a night … like last night … I want … more. I want more of you. I like what we have more than what we had. It feels right. But I do like what we had, just that … er … I feel happy and for the first time in my life, I feel cherished." The last part was said on a whisper. _Omigod. Please don't run away. I hope I don't regret this. Stupid mouth. Stupid hormones._

I was about to respond but she shushed me with a finger to my lips.

"Nobody has ever made me feel this way. I didn't know it was possible to feel like this." Her eyes were glistening as she said this last part with such heartfelt reverence.

I tipped her chin up and kissed her chastely on her cool lips.

"Babe. Last night, this morning, today, now … I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but spending it with you. I'm not going anywhere, Stephanie. Where you go I will follow if need be. I have been following you for a long time, in fact, since I first set eyes on you when you entered the diner and came into my life like a whirlwind of fresh air. You could say that I have been stalking you," at which she smiled and let out a breath of relief, "but not the calibre of your usual stalkers. My intentions have not always been honourable since my initial pursuits were lust driven like, I'm ashamed to admit, The Deal. For that I have deep regrets but at the same time, I am so glad that my seduction of Stephanie Plum with distractions, and pressure, and surveillance have made me realise how fortunate I am to be standing here, in your arms." I gave her a toe-curling kiss to further make my point. "Besides, I love your hormones."

"Wow. For a man of few words, you said so much. I didn't realise you were capable of lengthy conversations. You must be exhausted."

"Stephanie. Playing with fire will get you burnt." To which she chuckled and muttered something about pyromania and getting more than her fingers singed.

"Pyromania, Babe?"

She rolled her eyes and then laughed.

"I did it again, didn't I?"

We were both laughing and it felt good as we reached the Porsche.

"Take me to your lair, Batman."

"As you wish, mi Querida."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

 _ **TBC**_

 _Hello and I'm so glad you read this far. My Muse has been overwhelmed with work and some RL issues. She has also been distracted with some serious beta-ing but her hunger for Ranger won out in the end._

" _Are we there yet?" you might ask. I thought we might be there. Soon my dears, soon._

 _Please review and let me know what you think._


	6. Epiphany

Chapter 6: Making Moves

 **Stephanie POV**

It hit me like a lightning bolt when I was visiting my old apartment for something. More clothes perhaps, or for more shoes? I wasn't exactly sure why I was there, force of habit perhaps, like when you drive on auto pilot and there I was. It was sort of an aimless visit you know, just checking I guess. As I entered my apartment I had a sudden epiphany. It was just like a random visit. Just that. A visit. It could have been anyone's apartment. It was a weird kind of surreal feeling until the realisation really hit me. In a daze, I turned around and left, locking the door behind me, empty-handed. It dawned on me that when I entered Ranger's apartment on seven at Rangeman, I would breathe a mental sigh, a lovely sigh, a sigh of relief. Cue another lightning bolt. It was then that I realised it felt like home. It was safe and welcoming.

I had been staying on seven with Ranger more often, especially after last week.

When I arrived at my apartment the week before, I was alarmed with what I saw as I came from the stairwell, prompting my immediate call to the control room. _Yes, I use the stairs lately - who knew that would happen? Rolling my eyes here._

My doorway was littered with empty beer bottles and the torn cardboard six pack from which they came, as well as an open pizza box with some leftover pizza. An uneaten slice had obviously been flung across the hallway as it was plastered, cheese side, on the opposite wall with evidence that it had slid down a bit. Bloody Morelli! Beside the pizza box there was a sad and cheap looking bunch of flowers, from a gas station, strewn haphazardly around the place, the cellophane wrapping shredded wildly. My apartment door was … open. _Nope. Not going in there. No way._

Silently I closed the stairwell door, went back down the stairs and remained in the foyer awaiting the arrival of my Merry Men, since Ranger was in a corporate meeting with a high-end client. Two shiny black SUVs arrived in quick succession. Lester and Cal sped into the lot followed closely by Hal and Hector. Cal and Hector had already leapt from the SUVs before they had even stopped and assessed me for harm and injuries, looking visibly relieved after their thorough body scan. I assured them that I was fine, just a bit shaken and slightly pissed off, well, truth be told, a lot pissed off. My body language registered Pissed Off high on the Richter scale. They were pleased that I had not gone inside without back up and being cautious was better than walking into the unexpected alone and unprepared. All my training was ticking the boxes.

I quickly described the scene outside my apartment. Hector cursed in Spanish and turned to go upstairs when Cal grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and said something to him in rapid Spanish. I'm sure I heard my name mentioned as Hector looked at me. He nodded stoically.

Hal and Lester raced upstairs to check my apartment, probably to do a walk-through and a sweep, while we followed more sedately. It was obvious that Cal was implying a wary approach and Hector concurred when I noticed their ESP going over my head. I didn't know what to expect and was really hoping it was empty. No such luck as a furious Hal emerged from the bedroom. _See, I wasn't even thinking of it as_ _ **my bedroom**_ _anymore. Yes, it had a bed. But, I digress._

"Better that you don't see this, Bomber. It's not pretty. We need a clean-up crew, stat. And another team." Lester tossed the keys to Cal as his eyes looked meaningfully at my two guardians. Hal was already on his phone doing his CSI thing and making orders. I loved seeing my Merry Men in command.

Yikes. A clean-up crew? _Don't wanna know. Nope. Not going there. Denial. Denial. Denial._

Before I could dwell on that for too long, I was immediately about-faced and ushered back out of the door to the stairwell. Hector tensed and glared back at the doorway but Lester stood there taking up the entire space with an imposing stance which brooked no argument, his arms folded across his broad chest, shaking his head in that Rangeman minimalist way. Hal towered over his shoulder telling Hector to take care of me. Reluctantly, Hector, conceded and together with Cal, gently led me by the elbow, escorting me down the stairs and out to the shiny black SUV. He placed his arm over my shoulder in a warm reassuring side hug then opened the back door for me to hop onto the back seat.

Cal hopped in beside me and remarked, "It's best that we leave them to it, Angel." I nodded impassively. I don't even want to think about the possibilities.

I was curious but then again, I wasn't. Not anymore. _Eeuw! What the hell has he done? Do I really want to know? Nope. Denial. Need to know … as in I_ _ **don't**_ _need to know. Freakin' Morelli._

"I think a Tasty Pastry run is the order of the day. What do you reckon, Angel?"

"Hm …? Huh?" So eloquent of me. Mental rewind. "Did you say … Tasty Pastry?"

He smiled. Great distraction, Cal. I might need to bleach my brain at some time later but for now a Boston Cream, or two, was calling my name. And a Maple Pecan was beckoning, too. Might be best to grab a boxful, or two or four, and share them with the guys. I can share, so long as no one touches the Boston Cream or my Maple Pecan!

"Angelita, are you alright?" Hector grinned at my glazed expression with my faraway eyes. I wiped my mouth just in case I had drooled and shook my head to regain my focus to the present. Cal was laughing heartily and shaking his head.

"No one's gonna touch the Boston Creams or the maple. We like all our body parts intact."

I rolled my eyes and thunked my head, "Out loud again?"

"Oh yeah. You are so much fun. Besides, I prefer the cinnamon scrolls or a chocolate glazed with sprinkles."

"With sprinkles? A big hunky hulk of a guy like you?" I couldn't help but smile at the visual of Cal ordering a chocolate glazed with sprinkles.

"Rainbow or chocolate sprinkles?"

"Rainbow, most of the time." And just like that I had my happy back and much more to look forward to.

"I have got to see that. Tasty Pastry it is then, Cal. Who am I to argue with that? Drive Hector, and don't spare the horses." He chuckled and winked at me through the rear vision mirror.

As we left the parking lot another shiny black SUV arrived with Ram and Vince. It was obvious that they had their game faces on. _Denial, denial. Boston Creams and Maple Pecan, here I come._

We came away with three boxes and a mini pack just for me to cleanse my mind and appease my wild thoughts. The sugar fog settled soothingly around me as I moaned around the second Boston Cream.

"I've never known anyone make food sound so sexy and arousing, Angelita." Hector winked, again, through the rear vision mirror. When he turned his head at the red traffic light, he had a shit-eating grin on his face, which he rarely shared. I just shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. _Meh_.

"I'll say," mumbled Cal, shaking his head but smiling all the same as he made himself more comfortable.

"Sorry, not sorry. Serves you right. You were the one to suggest the Tasty Pastry." He made to grab my little box with the two maples when the car stopped since we had arrived at Rangeman. Perfect timing Hector. I leapt out of the vehicle and flew like the wolves were after me and the elevator doors shut just in time. I giggled with excitement, humming contentedly on my way up to five while licking the icing and custard off my fingers.

 **Ranger POV**

I was fuming. Dirty fucking bastard! Tank just apprised me of the mess at Stephanie's apartment. Fortuitously, sending the teams in as he did, ensured that Hector was on Stephanie watch with Cal, rather than one of the sweepers.

Tank had remarked, "As tempted as I was, we couldn't be sure who or what we'd find inside her apartment. If Morelli was in there and Hector discovered him, well, we all know, there was going to be blood and lots of it. He and Cal did a great job distracting and promptly removing her from the scene. Hal had been quick to head them off at the door before she had any chance of witnessing the damage. Lester and Hal have documented every detail, stills and video, and called the TPD to cart the fucker away. There is so much incriminating evidence, man. Un-fucking-believable!"

The Beast within was raging and I recognised it in Tank as well.

"We need to have a debrief for everyone before anyone leaves. Call it for 2230. Mandatory. This could get ugly. I don't want any dirt, not one iota of incriminating evidence that anyone could pin on Rangeman."

Tank nodded. I yanked my tie off and hurled it in the direction of my desk. I couldn't sit down any longer and began pacing.

"Apparently, it was not his first visit to her apartment recently. Evidently, with the hockey game on, he came bearing beer, pizza and cheap flowers. Not only had Morelli broken into her apartment, he had ransacked the place, obviously in a rage. He was found on her bed sleeping off a drunken stupor whilst hugging some of her clothing and … underwear."

"Fuck!"

"It gets worse, Ranger." Tank paused seeming to brace himself for the next delivery. "His pants were -"

I swore a slew of Spanish curses as I hurled one of the paperweights hard against the wall. I slammed my fist down onto my desk and then roared before he continued.

"They were down to his knees and there was jizz all over the place, on himself, the bedding and her clothing."

"Aw, fuck!"

"Her dresses and other clothing in the wardrobe had been slashed or shredded and every shoe had the heels snapped off. Even the bathroom had been trashed. Hal was disgusted with what he saw but kept his cool doing his CSI thing to the nth degree. You know how meticulous he is."

I ran my hands over my face and yanked the leather tie out of my hair. I felt like a raging bull, my audible breathing forced through my nostrils with my surging rage. I nodded for him to go on after taking a deep breath.

"While Hal itemised every small detail with still shots, Lester videoed every room and the fuckwit's slurred responses when they entered the bedroom, saying Cupcake, thinking it was Stephanie. Obviously, he'd been on a bender before he arrived. It seems that the neighbours had complained about the disturbance but the TPD were stretched to the limit with a pile-up on the Turnpike and multiple violent crimes which took precedence over a minor disturbance."

I am relieved that my men kept this filthy, graphic visual from her. Tank was simultaneously visibly reflecting my anger.

"When Lester called the TPD, it was Carl and Big Dog who arrived. Thank God for small mercies. At least we know that they wouldn't stoop so low as to cover for Morelli. To say they were pissed off was putting it mildly and they were none too gentle when they arrested him. Carl called for back up to secure the crime scene. Hal snapped the entire process, Lester too with the video, while he had his rights read to him and therefore it documented Morelli's physical condition at the time of the arrest. They anticipated that he may accidentally fall down the stairs but it would be after Rangeman's involvement."

I tossed a bottle of water at Tank and he raised an eyebrow. Yeah, yeah. I opened the whisky bottle and poured us two fingers each. Fuck. Fuck, fucking shit! That bastard.

My thoughts were interrupted by a hysterical shriek of fright followed immediately by the wonderful sound of laughter, Stephanie laughter, which washed over me like a soothing balm.

Opening the door, Hector had just grabbed Stephanie from the elevator, and yanked a box from her hand while taking a huge bite from a pastry he'd just snatched from her other hand. Cal had a couple of large white boxes, which had to be doughnuts if my Babe was involved. Her eyes caught mine and she froze.

"Uh oh," she squeaked. The control room fell silent.

"Babe?"

"Ranger?"

"Are you smuggling contraband?" I grinned.

"That would be Cal," she barefacedly accused him with a smirk, pointing at the evidence in his hands.

"Hector. You are so dead. There had better be another maple in one of those boxes."

"Oh, Chica, I was saving you."

"Yeah, right." She rolled her eyes, as only Stephanie can, but he just kept grinning as he licked his fingers deliberately, nodding his head in approval and licking his lips.

I was relieved to see the levity and nodded at Cal and Hector.

"Babe. A minute in my office, please?"

Stephanie began to mutter under her breath. "Uh-oh. He used the P word. I can handle this. It can't be all bad. And it's not like it was the first time that someone had broken into my apartment. Pffft. It was like a revolving door. Even Ranger gets past my basic security system. Hmm. Maybe we need to talk about that too." Cute, as she gave herself a mini pep talk. She blew some stray wispy curls off her forehead. Taking a deep breath to bolster some courage, she followed obediently. I caught her shamelessly ogling my ass as I stopped and turned suddenly.

I raised one eyebrow and had my wicked wolf grin now ogling her as I shut the door and stalked towards her and backed her up against it.

oxoXoxo

 _TBC …_

 _I know. Finally, an update after ALL this time, since mid March. I hear you, loud and clear, and if you are reading this, thank you for sticking with me. I am so glad to be back._

 _Beware the Ides of March they say, (March 15) but luckily, I'm not called Julius. Although, my name does mean 'noble and glorious leader, a chieftain'. Hmm. Something to think about._

 _Things became extremely hectic and frenetic and then my Muse went into shock and hiding, winter dormancy (in the antipodes). Sometimes we get hit by writer's block and even though the desire was there, the circumstances were not conducive. I am only human. So, I am_ _ **making moves**_ _in the right direction as I have the next chapter ready for tweaking and editing._


	7. All the Right moves

Making Moves: Chapter 7 **ALL THE RIGHT MOVES**

 **Ranger POV**

The drive back to Trenton from the beach was faster than I thought it would be. We were both in our zones. My hand drifted to her thigh and she placed her hand on mine, smiling at me. I gently brought her hand to my lips kissing her fingers and then her knuckles tenderly before placing her hand on my thigh. Every now and then I'd catch her glancing at me and she'd sigh sweetly.

My thoughts ran the gamut of my life as it is and as it was. I had never allowed anyone ever to come as close as Stephanie Plum has, to my heart. In the beginning I wasn't just pushing her away per se, I was discouraging her, but in all honesty, I was protecting my heart. So, call me selfish or stupid, and now I know, the latter. I could imagine my Abuela chuckling and clicking her tongue. I wasn't ready to concede that a relationship was possible or practicable or even wise. Giving her those qualifiers were a short-sighted, pathetic excuse. At the same time, I didn't think I deserved her and I didn't want to taint her innocence and light with my darkness knowing that there was a huge chunk of my life I could never share with her. But in reality, we were already in a relationship and neither one of us was ready to admit it. Stubborn, both of us. And now all this introspection. She has made me question my own carefully laid out ground rules.

To think that I thought Morelli was the better man for her needs and circumstances makes me so angry with my foolish past self. How wrong I was. Once I became aware of their history, his seedy reputation and familial upbringing, I was spurred to prove that I was the better man. This was not a pissing contest and I would not disrespect Stephanie in this manner. Seduction, pressure and stealing kisses in the alleyway were just part of the game, the hunt. That's what I do best and this was the most pleasurable and rewarding hunt of all. I began to feel a need for her, a craving, an addiction even. Watching her sleep at night from the chair in her bedroom made me value her presence in my life. Listening to her breathing was something no medicine or panacea could ever replicate. Then the need to touch her and feel her warm body close to mine and taste her went from obsession and lust, to hunger and desire.

Yes, we met at the diner and from then onwards she had gradually enticed or charmed her way inadvertently into my mind, my heart and now my soul. I had no idea how or when she had inveigled herself into my life. There was no deception or flattery. On the contrary, that was more my part, initially. My curiosity and concern made her come to the forefront of my thoughts. She was very different from what I expected, given our first encounter. Call it allure, yes, definitely an alluring magnetism. At first, it was in an entertaining manner which quickly morphed into a bewitching enticement and that, somehow, she captivated my heart before I even realised that she had a hold of it. Had I given permission for my hard, dark heart to open to the possibility of a life with someone, someday? Beguiling and to a certain degree naïve, this beautiful curly-haired brunette had captured more than just my attention. My need for her was stronger. Her needs and especially her safety, were a priority. I had to man up or risk losing her forever.

Our admissions at the beach were more than just declarations of love. They felt close to vows, honest and heartfelt words which we were afraid to share before. We both felt it. This was it for me. She was it. Not just mine in a possessive caveman sense but a yielding to the obvious according to Hector's observations. It seems everyone could see it but the two of us. We had not been ready to surrender to our emotions, being wary and shielding our hearts for fear of getting hurt by denial.

I smiled at her as we slowed down entering Trenton and finally we arrived at Rangeman. Not a word was spoken, not out loud anyway, but I could hear the gears whirling in her head as were mine. I parked the Porsche and looked at her, smiling. Putting my hand behind her neck, I slowly drew her closer and brushed my lips across hers.

"We're here, Babe."

"I know," she smiled back in that breathy voice that made my cock twinge and harden.

I walked around the car to open her door, kissing her more deeply as I undid the seatbelt, the back of my hand brushing along her breast as the seatbelt released. Taking her by the hand I gently pulled her out so that her body was fully pressed against mine, since I deliberately did not step back. I leaned into her so her back was against the car. I moved her legs apart by placing my knee between her thighs. She moaned into the kiss pressing my erection to her centre. She moaned. Oh, how I love that sound from her lips. Breaking the kiss, only to get much needed air and feeling her knees weaken, I stood us both upright, keeping a hold of her firmly to steady her. I know how she loves to kiss and her mouth is so delectable and tempting. But we are in the garage and I'm sure the nosy parkers on monitors are getting a show. I'll deal with them later if need be. Now my focus was on my Babe.

Closing the door, I took her hand in mine linking our fingers together and walked to the waiting elevator. Her eyes never left mine. No words were spoken as we went up to seven standing face to face, our bodies barely touching but the heat and electricity was tangible. I backed her off the elevator on seven, opening the door to my apartment and ushered her inside. I closed and locked the door. Looking down at her, her smiling eyes were darker and brighter likely reflecting mine.

She sighed happily.

"Welcome to my lair, Babe."

I wolf grinned at her hungrily and took a step closer, grazing her neck with my teeth and open-mouthed kisses especially at that sweet spot which she loved so much. Her head lolled to the left, offering me clearance as I nibbled along the collarbone bridge to get to the other side. I hummed and tongue-kissed that delicious dip at her throat along the way. She moaned with another breathy sigh. I pushed her against the wall with a full body press taking her mouth in a ferocious kiss. I was so hungry for her and it was mutual. I was pressing my hard erection at her core as I lifted one leg to my hip for better access. She lifted her other leg and clasped them both around my body. I literally ripped my mouth from hers and gasped for air. We both took in ragged breaths.

"Bedroom. Now."

I had considered taking her here at the wall but her commanding voice aroused me even more and like the good soldier I am, I obeyed, immediately. I might have growled and she laughed in that sexy way because she was just as aroused. I wanted to throw her onto the bed and feast on her. After all, I did make her a promise when we were at the boardwalk.

"You made me a promise, if I recall, Batman."

I grinned at her. Oh yes. She remembered. On the same wavelength. How often have we done that?

And not to be a slacker at all, that's exactly what I did. I worshipped at her temple until she was a beautiful shuddering and writhing mess, before I plunged into her warm inviting heat to the hilt. And again, later in the shower after a slow sweet session of lovemaking since the first round was more fast and furious, not that either of us complained. What this woman does to me. Madre dios. I had to help her stand on wobbly legs, so she could make it back to our bed. Our bed? Yeah. Our bed. I liked the sound of that.

She snuggled right into me. I loved the look of her lighter skin, glowing gloriously I might add, over my darker tones. She called it mocha latte. Her glistening eyes were watching me and the goofy grin on her face was cute and sexy. Her wild hair had more than that just fucked look. Totally sexy and she has no idea. I ran my hands through it. The conditioner has loosened 'the mess' as she calls it. Massaging her head under the guise of shampooing had her like putty in my hands. I couldn't keep my hands, or my mouth and other parts off her.

I had a few bite marks where she nipped me and she had her share as well. I wanted to devour her. She makes me insatiable. I know I have remarkable stamina but she matched me round for round, until her legs gave way. That might have been due to some more delicious temple worshipping. I did tell her I was good in the shower. So, I am a smug bastard, but a very happy, satiated one. I feel like the luckiest man on Earth as I heard her breathing relax and her eyes fluttered closed reluctantly. I kissed her temple and tugged gently at a few of her soft curls there.

"Te amo, Carlos," she muttered and my heart almost burst with love and pride.

"Te amo, querida, mi amor."

^v^ ^v^ ^v^^v^ ^v^ ^v^^v^ ^v^ ^v^

 _TBC_

 _Just a bit shorter this chapter, but I wanted it to just lead up to and include the lair. I had considered titling this chapter 'Back to My Lair'. But then I was listening to OneRepublic and the song title hit a chord with me. It's not a song fic, but I borrowed the title._

 _And just so you know, Chapter 8 is already written. I decided to split them after all as the Lair was fun and appropriate on its own._

 _And, of course, the usual disclaimers: JE owns the characters, I'm just playing with the, not making any money._


	8. Making Progress

**Making Moves: Chapter 8**

 **Making Progress**

 **Ranger's POV**

The day Stephanie Plum conceded that she needed training was a major change in attitude towards her personal safety and fitness. It was a memorable day when she approached me after another rough day. I couldn't be prouder of her, and secretly I was overjoyed, that I nearly kissed her right there and then. It took great control but I was aware of my surroundings and showed great restraint. She was determined to move forward and leave that part of her old routine behind her.

Having put the TPD on notice for their betting antics was a move in the right direction. Hector tapping into the TPD inside feed enabled me to watch her. With pride I recognised the moment she made her decision and act to quash and shame the betting club. The looks of surprise and remorse on their faces was very telling. Deflecting both Morelli and her sniping mother on the same day was a major coup. Being so resolute was part of the new direction she had undertaken. That she wanted respect for her skills I can understand, after all the shit she had to deal with from those who should be supporting her.

Bobby and I were elated. We wanted to activate a plan immediately but she wanted to do it on her terms, saying next week would be more suitable. She was just putting it out there for consideration. Besides, she needed to get the appropriate work-out shoes and gear. Well. I rolled my eyes, here in true Stephanie style. We metaphorically leapt over that aspect, going straight to the end game. We had to wait an entire week before she would consider starting.

So, we put our heads together to set things in motion, to gather the skilled personnel who were available and cross-referenced the shift rosters accordingly. Making her a work-out plan was fun and as you can guess, we did get a bit carried away. With some eager input from Lester, we felt we had considered all aspects of her training rather well: warm ups, gym time, gun range, self-defence, lock picking, martial arts skills, yoga, defensive driving and some more, as we thought her stamina and physique allowed. Tank perused the plan over our shoulders and clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Fuck. I'm surrounded by idiots. Too much too soon will make her lose impetus and interest before she gets to enjoy it. You three stooges need to back off a bit, and then some. We don't want to have her feeling overwhelmed and become discouraged."

Glancing at her schedule, we had to concur. To say that in all our excitement we had gone more than a tad over the top. Call it enthusiasm with an ample sprinkling of exuberance.

"Okay. Small steps," Bobby rationalised.

"Yes. Her body needs to get acclimated to this new regime and not everything all at once from the first week. Give her a chance to succeed before you set her up to fail." Wise words from my 2IC. He has my back even with this, but more importantly, he has Stephanie's back.

"You're right, Tank. We'll cut back on the hours and ease her into it."

Before leaving the doorway, he turned and almost casually remarked, "You know," and he shook his head, "you screw this up and you will suffer the consequences. The entire building will take you to the mats starting with me. I'm sure Ella will be on that hit list as well."

Shit! I could lose her just when I have found her and let her into my heart. The dynamics in this building with her presence has made a startling difference. None of us wanted to be back there before she entered our dark domain. She has brought so much light into all our lives, and not mine exclusively.

Taking a break, we headed to the break room for some water and granola bars. Bobby grinned at me.

"We are stupid amigos, sometimes."

Lester went off on an installation with Hector, leaving the two of us to calmly create a more practical plan for Stephanie. What with Tank, always the rational sagacious one, and the break, it helped us reconsider a more feasible option tailored for her specific needs.

We reviewed and modified the structure and made a weekly schedule with a tentative second week schedule to consolidate her skills and review it. It was a significantly condensed version. Bobby astutely adapted the usual Rangeman exercises to be woman friendly. The aim was for Stephanie to have input and give us feedback so that it was a joint goal setting effort. For the first month she would be supervised to get familiar with the equipment with work out buddies and coaches. She would be given physical support and encouragement, to get her body used to using muscles that had to be re-engaged or, in some cases, discovered. Bobby acknowledged that some physio therapy in the mix would be beneficial and necessary to ease muscle spasms and avoid any strains. The PT was likely to be more intensive in the early weeks and gradually reduced to an as needed basis. Of course, with my hands-on skills and expertise, I would gladly massage her legs and other parts that needed a warm up or a rub down. A tentative month by month overview was devised so we could demonstrate where the inclusion of additional skills could be phased in, much like a timeline.

In monitoring her progress, overall, we realised that she wasn't too bad. Her resistance to exercise in general was more a case of reluctance on her part and an element of laziness. Stamina was an aspect that needed gradual development to avoid serious pain and injury. She still wasn't keen on the early morning starts but when she stayed overnight I was able to give her a rewarding warm up. Call it incentive.

Dietary changes were also part of the process and she acquiesced, so long as she didn't have to eat bark and twigs. Gotta love her. Ensuring she had the right balance of nutrients enabled her body to burn fuel and energy efficiently whilst providing stamina for strength and endurance. Hydration was paramount and a more balanced diet was made easier to manage with the help of Ella. Together they came up with a practical menu which included some of her favourites, with moderation being the keyword.

In the months that followed she demonstrated how serious she was about the training and this new attitude. Her trainers du jour, as she called them, expressed a lot of admiration and pride for her commitment. We all saw the difference. She was energised, keen to learn and improve and, did I say, energised? I helped her burn some residual energy in the privacy of my apartment upstairs. Add to that massages and soothing deep soaking baths, her recovery was remarkable after the torture of the first few weeks.

Sometimes we'd find her asleep, totally exhausted, in her cubicle while running searches. Yes, she complained and grumbled at times, but it was more a muttering to herself. There were some tears in the beginning, mostly out of frustration, and some whining, but when she got the hang of it, we saw that attitudinal change. She had something to prove and she worked with diligence and dedication to achieve her goals. Having both short term and long-term goals kept things in perspective and real. Doing a happy dance when she reached one of her goals was a joy to behold. There was always a group dance to celebrate her achievement.

The elevator stairwell door opened to reveal a happy and flushed Stephanie with one of her paper men from the gun range. JAM, the caption read.

"JAM? Is that its name?"

"Yup. His name is JAM," she grinned as Ram pinned it high on the noticeboard and ruffled her hair, then bumped knuckles and fists with her before he departed for the gun range again. Three strategic areas had been targeted. Heart, head, balls. Hmm …

"JAM."

"JAM," she confirmed with a Rangeman-worthy blank face.

"Babe?"

"Ranger?"

"And JAM is someone we know?"

She grinned. "JAM as in Joseph Anthony Morelli. I'm off to the gym with my next gorgeous trainer du jour."

"Gorgeous? Do I need to take him to the mats?"

"Nope. Only I could love him so much for his ink." And she disappeared into the stairwell once again. Note, stairwell, not the elevator.

Watching her in the gym now working out with Cal, our martial arts expert, has me admiring her energy and persistence. Her body is already showing that finely toned look. Her actions were more fluid and he wasn't going easy on her either.

She was spending less time at her apartment and this put my mind at ease. A new security system might need to be installed, with her permission.

I still went to the gym early, but I missed her warm body when she wasn't there. I liked waking up with her beside me. I liked going to bed with her at night even more. Mostly our bodies were entwined or she was practically on top of me. On those particular mornings, the cardio was not in the gym.

My body was in a constant state of arousal with her close by. Lester picked up on that and came into my office one afternoon with a bucket of cold water and a pitcher of ice. His face was dead pan straight as he set them on the coffee table near the couch.

"Thought this might help your … condition."

To say he scampered out of my office so fast was almost laughable. My cousin can be such an idiot. Shaking my head.

"Fuck you, Santos!"

But I hate to admit it, he's right. A cold shower was not an uncommon part of my daily routine lately.

I found Stephanie in her cubicle after my teleconference. She was focussed on some reading matter while the searches were running. She had requested two monitors so she could run multiple searches on each one. It was a practical suggestion and Hector had her cubby modified before the end of her martial arts session with Cal.

Looking over her shoulders, I saw her yellow highlighter on the print outs. Not a regular search it seems. Rental properties. Curious. She was so engrossed that she hadn't felt my presence, yet. I leaned over and whispered in her ear, knowing she would jump, so I had my hands braced ready to catch her shoulders and the chair before it hit the deck.

"God! Ranger! Make some noise, will ya!" And there was that classic Jersey attitude. I chuckled as I soothed her with gentle kisses down her neck while viewing the highlighted properties.

"What's the criteria?" I sat down in her guest chair.

"Well. I thought it was time for me to move on."

"Move on?" I had a sudden lump in my throat and I couldn't keep the concern or anxiety out of my voice as I spoke before I could school my face. I was worried about the 'moving on' part.

"You've been saying all along that I need to have better security. So that's one of the main criteria. Proximity to Rangeman is too. Not too close to the Burg. Safe neighbourhood. You know. But still close to you," she placated. I breathed a sigh of relief and she smiled knowingly at my mini almost panic attack. She palmed my cheek soothingly.

"I am not moving away, per se. More like looking for an upgrade in my living conditions."

"Proud of you, Babe. Sounds like you have a plan and that you are taking your security more seriously."

"You know," she remarked pensively, "Morelli did make one other good comment, snarky as it was at the time."

"In the TPD parking lot? And what was that?" I was trying to recall the 'conversation', if that was the right word, but I was a bit out of earshot. Lester had given me the details although I could hear some of it. I wasn't prepared to give Morelli any credit any time soon, if ever. Fuckwit didn't deserve any credit at all.

"He said it was time I got out of that 'shitty apartment', and the rest was his usual rant. But it is a shitty apartment and so I decided it was time to move on. You know, make a fresh start. Upgrade."

I leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "I can think of a much better upgrade that meets all the criteria and more. Move in with me, Babe."

She blushed since I used my bedroom voice as she calls it. I held my breath as she considered my offer and composed herself. I love how she is so responsive.

"You're serious. Aren't you?"

She paused. I nodded. Oh yes, I was very serious.

"Let me think about it."

I kissed her on the lips with a bit of tongue, for incentive. "No pressure." I nodded and winked as I left her, a little breathless, to contemplate my very serious offer.

As if on cue, the following week, Morelli did his dirty deed. I was not able to deal with it myself due to my meeting with a high-end client, a successful and lucrative meeting as it turned out. I was a little distracted but trusted my team implicitly to handle things accordingly.

Hal and Lester had recorded and accumulated so much irrevocable evidence of his B&E and trashing of her clothes and her apartment. The TPD were quick to respond after Hal reported it. I know for sure, that he and Lester had already visualised so many ways to hurt and then dispose of his body. Hector and Cal too. Tank chose well, as I knew he always would. It was a gamble sending Hector but Cal made sure he obeyed Tank's instructions to the letter. Being on Stephanie watch was a high priority and an esteemed duty. Her safety was paramount, to all of us.

Morelli was arrested and is out on bail awaiting his court hearing. He is on suspension and must report to the parole desk daily since we also hit him with a restraining order. The men were eager in anticipation for him to skip bail. Lester created a raffle for two contenders in anticipation of when he becomes an FTA. Hypothetical plans to delay his court appearance became very creative and the discussions for options became very animated to make it possible. We can only hope. But we keep our hands clean. There will be no interference. That was mandated.

The Chief of Police already indicated that anger management, alcohol abuse AA sessions, community service and costs for the clean-up and replacement of damaged goods and furniture, would be some of the ramifications for his disgraceful behaviour and bringing disrepute to his badge. If he had to sell his Slater residence I was not the least bit concerned. The Chief readily accepted our photos and video evidence as they were cited and considered binding by the two arresting officers. The DNA samples were also approved. Hal collected duplicate samples, in their presence, one for our evidence records and another for the TPD. This then allowed our clean-up crew to do what they do best. It seems the Chief has had more than a gutful of Morelli's indiscretions. Apparently, other anonymous photographic incriminating evidence landed on the Chief's desk in the same week. Remarkable timing.

Hector and Cal created an appropriate distraction for Stephanie that involved sugary goods from her favourite place, the Tasty Pastry. Watching her trying to grab her pastry from Hector near the elevator and quickly and unashamedly putting the blame on Cal for the contraband evident in his hands, made me smile.

I called her into my office, but my need for her took precedence over the need to explain what happened at her apartment.

 _TBC_


	9. The Fallout

**Making Moves: Chapter 9: The Fallout**

… **o.o.o.o…**

 **Tank's POV**

 _ **Text to Tank**_ _: MATS in 10._

I raised an eyebrow, as is Rangeman customary, and just grunted as I acknowledged the text with a check, knowing exactly what that implied. Having already expected this call, in anticipation I had primed the team. Summoning Ram and Vince immediately, I added Woody and Manny, down to the gym, stat. Another essential text to Bobby. I had a hunch. It was going to be fiery and furious, fuelled by the rage from dealing with Stephanie's apartment. Having Zip and Zero on standby was a precautionary measure. Hector and Cal would need their time when they returned with Stephanie.

 **Hal's POV**

The drive back to Rangeman was in seething silence. That fucker. I didn't care about the speed limit, just so we would be back at Rangeman in ten minutes or less, if this asshole in front of me makes up his fucking mind. Neither of us said a word. It wasn't necessary. I knew exactly what was going through his mind, just like the raging thoughts in mine. Lester's nostrils were flared, as he stared ahead unseeing. He was breathing hard and his fists were clenched and unclenched after he pocketed his cell phone even before we left the parking lot. We both knew the protocol but his text to Tank was appropriate. I wouldn't mind betting that Tank was expecting his text. When I looked at my own hands, they were white-knuckled on the steering wheel.

...o.o.o…

As is my habit, I did a post mortem review of our proceedings, all part of dotting the i's and crossing the t's. The guys laugh at me for being so anal and pedantic. But this is how I am wired. Besides, where Stephanie is concerned, going to great lengths to be so thorough and meticulous means everything and if I, we, missed something, even one minutiae, I would never forgive myself. I chuckled sarcastically, causing Lester to raise a querying eyebrow at me.

"Just doing my post mortem. Really wish it was on that fucker Morelli!" I growled, and he knuckle bumped me.

"Fuck yeah!"

I reflected.

We had to be extremely tight and thorough in detailing all the evidence. Not knowing what to expect, if Morelli or some other perp was inside, we went into hunt mode, following protocol to the nth degree. We were going to be exceptionally methodical and meticulous. You could always count on unexpected surprises where Stephanie was concerned since things often came out of left field with the various stalkers and car bombs, fire bombs and cut up bodies, spiders, snakes and giant rabbits and so much more weird shit.

Our focus was on obtaining and processing evidence and in doing so, our emotions shut down to concentrate exclusively on the task at hand. We set for our preliminary cursory sweep and room by room scan. While Lester videoed in my wake, we noted the damage to her furniture as we cleared the dining and lounge area. The kitchen was barely untouched aside from the broken beer bottle against the wall and the broken cookie jar, her special gun safe. We headed cautiously to her bedroom. **Not** what we were expecting. No way. But then again, it takes a lot to surprise us seasoned vets. Besides, as Rangemen capturing errant civilians and chasing down criminals who were FTA, we had seen well over our share of weird shit. I heard Lester swear in disgust, just as I did.

We found the fuckwit's disgusting semi-clad body passed out on Stephanie's bed, all jizzed up, his pants down past his knees. Oh, for chrissake! He had some of her underwear around his cock and another lot scrunched near his face with some more tucked under his head, clutched in his hands like a favourite pillow or blankie. _Fuck!_ We both seriously contemplated shooting his brains and his balls out, but that would incriminate Stephanie.

As a former SEAL, and Lester a Ranger, our vast experience in black ops had us conjuring up countless ways to dispose of this asshole, after contemplating one hundred and one ways to inflict pain, obliterate him and another one hundred and one ways to leave nary a trail. Quickly casting those rabid thoughts aside, we had a job to do and if we were going to nail the bastard it had to be unquestionably thorough and systematic. Nothing, not one iota, would be left to doubt and, the fact that he was passed out in such a grossly compromising position, especially in his state of undress, went greatly in our favour.

Thankfully, Cal and Hector had been negotiating the stairs slowly with Steph. By the time we reached the bedroom, I knew there was no way that she needed to witness this obscene display. Hector glimpsed my brief expression as they entered, before I slammed down my blank visage, but having heard Lester's expletive, it was enough for him to realise that the fucking asshat Morelli was in there. Cal intercepted his actions, grabbing him assertively by the shoulder and nodded firmly yet discreetly towards Steph.

They recognised our signals and immediately heeded our warning words and quickly about-faced Stephanie whilst simultaneously blocking her view of her apartment, to save her from any tainted visuals. And, just as important, if not more so, especially, to secure and maintain the integrity of the crime scene. The fewer walk-ins the better. Fortunately, since she was looking at Lester inquisitively with the camera, she didn't notice the damage in the adjacent rooms. I called Rangeman for assistance, a patrol to monitor our vehicle and secure the entry while we processed the scene. I requested the full CSI kit because the basic kit was not going to cut it and made a call for a clean-up crew for afterwards. This report had to be absolutely, indisputably irrefutable if we were to nail the bastard once and for all. As Lester called the TPD, Hector was ready to launch himself for a secondary attempt knowing full well that Morelli had to be in there, but with Cal's assistance and our assertive body language blocking the doorway, he knew being on Stephanie watch was his primary focus so reluctantly, he allowed us to do our job in preserving the crime scene.

We photographed and tagged the overwhelming evidence with markers for the TPD officers who were on their way. I obtained the biologicals of which there were plenty and together we had it all documented, bagged, tagged and photographed in no time. I made two sets, a Rangeman set and a TPD set. All the while the fucker slept off his drunken rage.

All her clothes from the closet were strewn haphazardly all over the place either ripped, torn or shredded like he'd taken a knife to them. All the drawers were tipped out and it looked like he had gone berserk in here. Between the photos I was taking and the video from Les, the evidence was undeniably overwhelming. I bagged a few of the shredded dresses and t-shirts to indicate the type of damage. Fingerprints on the broken heels of her beloved FMPs and other shoes were abundant. He'd filled the bath with bubble bath, _go figure_ , and her damaged shoes were floating around. Blood on the vanity from broken glass and the shattered mirror, was evident from where he had trashed all of Stephanie's makeup, perfume and toiletries. The drawers again were tipped out and items crushed as if he stamped his foot on them. I shook my head at the dickhead's stupidity. I looked at his boots and photographed the smudged nail polishes and makeup evident there.

As we were just finalising all the evidence collated and collected, including tagging and collecting evidence from the beer and pizza scene, much to our relief, it was Carl and Big Dog coming through the stairwell door. Carl rolled his eyes and Big Dog swore as they surveyed the outside scene. They looked wide-eyed at the multitude of bags as I put the biologicals in the mini cooler.

"Fuck! Morelli? Fucking asshat!" Funny how they jumped to the same conclusion as we did.

"Oh, wait till you see inside. It gets better."

We walked them through each room. Firstly, the kitchen, the damaged dining room with broken chairs, to the smashed coffee table and the slashed seats of the couch, which looked like an errant puppy had caused them to explode. It was obvious his rage increased as he approached her bedroom. We directed them into the bedroom, stepping carefully over the markers while Lester videoed their entry as the fuckwit slurred, "Cupcake?". He rolled to his side snuggling into his pillow of her underwear before passing out again, mumbling her name again and something incoherent and then something about 'the boys'. _Fuck!_

The bedroom, the closet and the bathroom were the worst, but seeing Morelli on the defiled bed was just beyond stupid and so incriminating.

We adjourned to the main living area after they'd seen their fill, and discussed the damage and his obvious B&E. They confirmed our records and had no doubt that we had maintained all the protocols. I gave them the second lot of evidence bags reserved for the TPD.

"You know I'm gonna have to bleach my brain after this," muttered Big Dog, shaking his head disgustedly.

Carl Concurred. "I never want to see this much of his hairy butt ever again. This is too much. Jeez. What a fucker."

Big Dog dashed down the stairwell with the bags.

Lester videoed them trying to remove Morelli.

"No way! I'm not pulling his pants up. You can do that part, since I have seniority," growled Carl. Big Dog was not going to argue the status but was most displeased with his task and scowled as he shoved Morelli's jeans up, not bothering to do the zip up but wrangled the button up. No way was he touching any part of his flaccid state. The look of utter distaste said it all. Morelli stirred and made mutterings of "Leave me alone" and "Cupcake?" again.

Carl said there was no need to seal off the scene since there were no dead bodies and they had all the evidence they needed including their own witness reports. He signed the tablet and agreed that the clean up crew could go ahead.

"Not that there is much to salvage. Poor Steph. He certainly did a job on her stuff. Make sure we get an account for damages to add to his arrest. Stupid fucker should have left her alone."

"Will do."

"Out of interest, who called it in?"

"Stephanie."

"You're kidding. Did she see him …?" The look of concern evident was very reassuring that he had her back.

"No. Thankfully she called Rangeman for immediate assistance once she saw the mess outside the door. She did not go in and we made sure that she didn't see him or the mess." Carl was making notes in his little notebook, keeping it all official. He knew that maintaining protocol where a brother officer was concerned, was very critical.

"Oh, thank God for small mercies. She doesn't deserve this shit. Bad enough she has had to deal with stalkers and other crazies. But now Morelli and this bullshit? He's gonna go down, big time for this. Fucking idiot."

"I'll send the video footage on, but only to you. I think the Chief will be very interested in this footage as well, but we'll let you do your duty first. Or would you rather we send it to him direct?"

Big Dog and Carl grinned at each other.

"Both."

Oh, yeah. Good call. The Chief will get a nice surprise and we know he is not too fond of Morelli and his cocky sanctimonious ways.

Morelli was coming to, still clutching her underwear which I wanted to rip away from his filthy hands. _Dirty sick bastard._ He grinned lopsidedly with a goofy drunk expression on his face and collapsed when they tried to stand him upright. I noted that they were none too sorry when he hit his head against the bed on the way down, nor did they intercept his fall.

Ah yes, the TPD Golden Boy, the Italian Stallion, as he calls himself, has fallen from grace. _Fucker!_

After three attempts and a cup of water thrown over his face, he became a bit more coherent as they read him his rights, Lester all the while videoing the whole proceedings. Morelli agreed that he understood but then the reality suddenly hit him.

"Hey guys. What the fuck?! Under arrest? What the fuck for? You can't arrest me. Not a brother officer." He slurred loudly and started to flap his arms agitatedly, losing his balance again.

And as he became more argumentative, glaring and pointing at Lester, "What the fuck is this thug doing here in Stephanie's apartment. He's the one you should arrest. What's with the camera? What the fuck are these two goons doing? Carl? Big Dog? Hey man. We go way back. I can explain."

Big Dog grabbed his wrists and handcuffed them roughly behind his back. They ignored his pleas and then he really became violent kicking and trying to headbutt Carl who deftly stepped aside with Morelli's uncontrolled feeble attempts at attack and of course he fell, hitting his head against the door jamb.

"C'mon Morelli. Just shut it and let's go, unless you want to add resisting arrest to your charges." With this they firmly grabbed him by the elbows, yanked him upright and took him out the front door to the stairwell, Lester smiling in pursuit, capturing his glorious departure for all and sundry. We left them to it.

"Aw shit Morelli. Stay on your feet man." We chuckled at Big Dog's effort in pretence at escorting him down the stairs.

The clean-up crew arrived. Miguel and Andreas were stunned. They thought we had beaten him up.

"Ah. Gotcha. He must have fallen down the stairs, more than once. His nose is broken that's a cert," chuckled Miguel with relief and a sneer.

Leaving them with instructions we left them to it.

As we parked in the garage, Gene and Bones grabbed all the evidence as we charged up the stairs to the gym. Lester and I slammed the door open, ripping our gear off and chucking our boots to the side in the locker room. We both headed for the showers to remove this filth and once we were dressed we were ready to burn off some adrenalin and rage. Tank was standing by the mats, arms crossed over his vast chest. Ram and Vince knuckle bumped us.

 **Tank's POV**

The arrival of Hal and Lester was a thunderous entrance. After the cleansing, they had a serious need to spar and burn of their fury. I knew that Hal and Les had done a systematic documentation of the crime scene and their anger both at Morelli and the damage he'd inflicted in Stephanie's apartment from what I heard from Miguel as a forewarning, proved my team preparation was well considered.

While Bobby monitored the mats, Gene brought the camera to me for initial viewing. I watched, keeping a cursory eye on the mats. But once I saw that fucker on her bed I couldn't help but swear vehemently.

"Fuck!"

It took all my control not to ditch the camera against the wall or any other hard surface. Everybody froze for a moment, allowing them to catch their breath. Bobby swung the tag teams and then the sparring resumed with a new vengeance. I silently acknowledged Gene giving him back the camera.

Upstairs, I briefed Ranger. He took it rather well. We were relieved that Stephanie used her training by not entering her apartment and calling for back up. Ranger's anger was suddenly calmed when we heard Stephanie's squealing outburst by the elevator. Cal and Hector had done a fine diversion with her. As Ranger called her into his office I beckoned to the two guardians.

"Mat time. Stat. They're ready for you."

Hector scowled, and he was still pissed off at not being allowed to seek Morelli retribution. I'd seen that look on his face before and the video made it clear already from what I did see. They both headed promptly to the stairwell. I put the boxes from the Tasty Pastry in my office for the time being.

 **Robin's POV**

What the hell is all that noise coming from the docking ramp? All I could hear was Morelli and the first thought that flashed in my mind was an encounter with Stephanie. Much to my astonishment, it was Morelli, yes, and he was handcuffed with two very angry, silent officers escorting him inside, Carl and Big Dog. If looks could kill, Morelli would be dead already. Likewise, Carl and Big Dog would be too if Morelli had his way.

Omigod! He looks a mess, obviously drunk. Bloodied face, probably a broken nose. He was a dishevelled mess. I gasped. He was not fully dressed. Oh Christ! His pants were not zipped up and he was hanging out at half-mast for all to see. Eeuww! I was not going to ask about that nor about the other obviously sticky stuff on his shirt. My lucky day to be on the desk.

Morelli was making such a racket, that every single person, police and civilians alike, all stared stunned at the Golden Boy. This is just so good. Cameras clicked and that really set him off.

"What the fuck are you all gawking at?! Haven't you got work to do?"

No remorse there. How does it feel, I wonder, to be the target of everyone at the TPD seeing him in this state of disgrace? Oh, how the tables have turned. It's about time he had his comeuppance. My day was looking up after all. Carl winked at me knowingly.

While Morelli continued his tirade, Carl and Big Dog were calm and matter of fact as they lodged his charges. They shackled him to the bench as he became more agitated, quietly ignoring him without responding to his angry taunts and threats. Oh yes. Just keep going Morelli. Don't you just love it when they dig themselves into a deeper hole?

Big Dog retrieved the evidence bags and I suddenly held my breath, frightened that Stephanie might have been in his crosshairs. But as Carl continued with his report, I breathed a sigh of utter relief when he listed the charges.

Morelli's noisy invective was more than untidy. He was enraged to be shackled and anyone who caught his eye received a slightly slurred but vicious outburst.

"Morelli!" He still carried on.

The Chief. Oh, the saints be praised. Ooh. He sounds fit to kill.

"Morelli! Shut the fuck up!"

Morelli hunched over, hanging his head in shame. He had no where to hide and I was not about to order him to the cells until I was advised. Besides, he hadn't been fully processed yet. What a shame.

"Carl, Big Dog. My office, now. Robin, he stays put. If he carries on, someone can throw a bucket of water over him."

… .o…

 _TBC_

 _Finally, another update you say? Curve balls come in many shapes and sizes and forms. We've just been hit with the Cancer curve ball from the blue, my husband. My Muse was in shock, paralysed in fear, but yesterday we received the wonderful long-awaited anxious news that the surgery was a success and the aggressive cancer had been removed. For the time being we can be relieved._

 _Thank you all for staying with me, taking the time to read and especially those wonderful reviewers._

 _The usual disclaimers … The characters belong to Janet and I'm making no money, just playing with them…._


	10. Dominoes

Making Moves

Chapter 10

 **Dominoes**

…

…o.o.o…

After the Chief discussed the evidence with Carl and Big Dog, a very wet Morelli was placed into a cell. At least the messy remains and evidence of his sordid activities were partially washed away. Or so he thought. At least he had a towel over his lap, which was gratefully offered to him only to find that they were not sorry for him but disgusted. It was done to protect their eyes, not his dignity as he thought, since no one needed to endure that vision.

Robin smiled when Big Dog winked at her, fully aware that Morelli couldn't keep his trap shut. Multiple charges were recorded including property damage, driving under the influence and being drunk and disorderly. Resisting arrest and assaulting an officer of the law made his rap sheet a considerable one.

The Chief called for Morelli and had a long sharp session telling, more like yelling, Morelli what he thought of him. Bringing disrepute to his badge was the main thrust as he recounted all the charges currently listed. He didn't actually mention Stephanie by name, as Rangeman had requested, but made it clear that his behaviour was unforgivable. Even with the door closed, everybody could hear Morelli getting his ass reamed. Through the open blinds of the Chief's office, they could see him pacing and gesticulating, and banging on his desk. Morelli was stripped of his detective rank and assigned to desk duties for the rest of the week.

Once in his overnight cell, he was able to zip himself up, avoiding any more embarrassment. But the other cell mates alongside had a field day taunting him about free willy blowing in the breeze, unrestrained. He was released the next morning, since no one came to collect him, probably since he refused his one phone call. Because of his disgusting appearance, a uniformed officer escorted him home to have a shower, while said officer waited and then he was returned to his cell. House arrest was too good for him. This was not his first infringement and the Chief had had enough. A standard uniform was issued immediately. "And get a haircut!"

That morning, the shock of seeing him in his blues and his hair cut shorter than anyone could ever recall, was palpable and silence followed in his wake as he was escorted to his new desk. Officer Morelli had been taken down more than a peg or two. The Golden Boy was looking very lack lustre. His stony-faced expression was so fixed, it was like he had lock jaw. Bitterness surged under the surface as he struggled to maintain his cop face with the furtive glances, whispers and asides. The occasional camera clicks had him seething and struggling to maintain his composure. There was nowhere to hide like his old office and no door to close so he could conceal his internal rage. Morelli had to grit his teeth not being afforded his previous position of authority. Many times, he had to bite his tongue when he was ordered to do mundane tasks, like coffee orders and clean up puke and more. He was treated with the disdain reserved for lowly criminals and he did not like it one bit.

The Chief had also put him on a month's suspension with no pay, no leave and no entitlements, starting next Monday so that he could spend an entire week conspicuously at the TPD. He wanted to humiliate Morelli in front of his peers for this one week. His slate was already smeared and making an example of him pleased the Chief immensely. Morelli was to report to anger management and AA sessions starting the next day. He was escorted home each day and collected in the morning by a senior officer and driven to his AM and AA sessions since his licence had been temporarily suspended as well.

More charges were pending, awaiting the full report from Carl and Big Dog and the forensics. He would be billed for damages and the clean up costs once those details were disclosed. The more serious charges of resisting and assault would be reviewed and certainly not ignored. This was a serious matter. The law is the law. There are no special privileges for a former detective like him. After all, he had sworn to uphold the law. He was not above the law. Handing in his detective badge was almost the last straw but then he was issued with a standard TPD badge. A weapons review left him feeling vulnerable and victimised.

Robin received a registered parcel which had already been cleared by the security screening and deemed safe. Private and Confidential were emblazoned to the front and back. It was addressed to the Chief. Knocking on his door, a calmer Chief received her as she presented him with the parcel. He smiled at her.

"So, how many times did you have to bucket Morelli before he learned his lesson?"

She smiled. "Twice, before he clammed up. I had a third bucket on standby."

"Let me know if there is any conflict, especially directed towards Carl and Big Dog from Morelli's fan club. I have a feeling it will settle very quickly," as he eyed the parcel.

Robin left and took her lunch break.

Screaming in the TPD foyer snapped everyone's attention to the three women who charged in demanding to see the Chief. A very rattled Officer Gaspick was on reception and was struggling to contain their hysterics. Bella Morelli was making her ancient Italian taunts and threats and he was a bit afraid of her. He'd heard about her reputation. Bella reminded him of his own Italian grandmother, on his mother's side. Crazy Italian old world women.

Curious to see who else was screeching, Robin was surprised that Helen Plum had joined the two Morelli women demanding to know who made the, "obviously, false allegations" against their Joey.

A sudden roar from the Chief's office instantly silenced the always noisy and busy TPD inner sanctum. Everyone froze as a red-faced Chief hurled his door open yelling for blood.

"Morelli! Get your ass up here. Now!"

Knowing that stalling was going to make matters worse, Morelli flew up the stairs to his office. The Chief slammed the door behind him. All eyes were on the two figures almost silhouetted by the blinds as the Chief's voice thundered.

Clearly, they all heard, "What the fuck is all this?!"

The Chief was holding up papers and what looked like multiple photos, that much was clear.

"Oh shit. He's in for it now," muttered Robin.

Bella Morelli was talking in rapid Italian. Angie Morelli crossed herself and suddenly became weak at the knees, assisted from collapsing completely by Helen. Everyone stared at them, immediately silencing the old hag, and like nasty shrews, they slunk out onto the street. Angie was red-faced. Fear was reflected in her eyes. Had her Joey …?

Nobody spoke as Helen drove Angie and Bella to their house, but she decided a short detour on her way home was in order. She parked the Buick next to the distasteful dumpster and strode briskly into the brownstone building, into the foyer and into the elevator. The pounding on Stephanie's apartment door, accompanied by her screeching demands, caused quite a stir. The residents had had enough of these after all the excitement and drama of the past two weeks. Two TPD officers arrived and told her to move on, reminding her that this was still a crime scene, as evidenced by the crime scene tape. They knew she was Stephanie Plum's mother. She was escorted off the premises under warning, and threat, that if she had to be forcibly removed they might have to arrest her.

Between her usual "Why me's?" and "It's all Stephanie's fault." And "How could she do this to me?" And "How could she do this to Joseph?" They shook their heads when she finally departed the parking lot. Being so obsessed with this Morelli thing, it didn't occur to her to question the crime scene aspect of her own daughter's apartment. The details had not yet been made public. The TPD officers were confused and totally aghast. What kind of mother does that?

Neither the TPD Telegraph nor the Burg Grapevine had enough information to put the cryptic snippets together. The fallout and this crime scene seemed like two separate issues. Speculation however, was running rampant especially in the Morelli domain.

Of course, Helen Plum was not so easily deflected. She wanted to vent. She wanted to castigate and chastise and blame someone, one person in particular. She decided to go home first and have an active discussion with her friends Jack and Jim. Wild Turkey joined the conversation. In the meantime, she was fending off and feeding phone calls. Her perspective was narrow as usual. The scathing reports about Joseph Morelli's demotion to uniformed officer had their tongues wagging. For a change it was Joseph Morelli's misdeeds that took the forefront.

Of course, Helen Plum blamed her daughter, Stephanie. It had to be all her fault. And like a broken record, she spewed all the same vitriol as usual. She felt so humiliated and was scornful of her youngest daughter. It was all about her and the shame that Stephanie brought upon her. She tried to maintain that issue and her personal dilemma with her wayward daughter, but the Morelli story was more tangible and sensational.

Of course, Helen Plum ignored their curious inquiries as to how this had anything to do with Stephanie. They were confused. That Angie Morelli would defend her son was a given, but that Helen used this as a ploy to once again express her disdain and contempt for Stephanie had them shaking their heads. Her martyrdom was well-known, but it just didn't cut it today. Insert a major Burg eyeroll here.

But the tide was changing for Helen. The phone calls slowed as her audience diminished, fed up and disgusted with Helen Plum and her derisive, slurred remarks about her own daughter. Stephanie's name had not come up in despatches for a while now and they knew that recent discussions (gossip), even though less sensational than before, had become tedious. They were getting wise to the power play that Helen Plum and Angie Morelli had regaled upon themselves. Bella Morelli still made the busybodies quake with fear causing them to cross themselves whilst making their silent anxious prayers and more secretive curses.

The gossipmongers and the Bitter Bitches of the Burg had fresh meat and that it was a Morelli who was in the spotlight had fired them up with a new vengeance. And why was Stephanie's apartment a crime scene? Had he murdered her? The small threads could not hold enough info for anyone to get a proper foothold and run with it. But Morelli's unceremonious demotion was creating a feeding frenzy. Speculation was rife. The Morelli household was being bombarded inside and out. The phones were taken off line. Press photographers were waiting outside like vultures. Everyone wanted the scoop. The TPD also had a smaller press contingent as the news surged through the neighbourhood.

Not to be so readily discouraged, Helen drove to Rangeman. It took her a while since she wasn't sure if it was Harwood, or Hatewood, or Wayward or Haywood Street. Since her judgement was diminished by the alcohol in her system, she ignored many of the road rules; her sole focus was to complete her mission. When she ran the red light, narrowly missing the school bus, the flashing lights appeared behind her. Deciding it couldn't be for her, she sped on ahead obliviously ignoring the siren and those wretched flashing lights.

Of course, Helen Plum never did find Rangeman. With two police cars tracking her, it took a third to finally make her stop, denying her the opportunity to complete her mission. The air bags went off and stunned her as she hit a couple of parked cars and crashed it into a large elm tree after running over the stop sign.

Of course, Helen Plum made a scene. She was practically hysterical. Initially they thought it was out of concern for her daughter Stephanie that made her so emotional and in such a frenzy. Until they smelled the alcohol. Until they saw her emerge from the car and stagger, against their request to remain inside the vehicle. She failed the breathalyser. She resisted her arrest, determined to go on foot to find this elusive Rangeman building. She had to be handcuffed and as they read her Miranda rights, she suddenly froze into a semi-catatonic state.

Helen Plum was escorted through the police station to the charge desk with a few clicking cameras recording it for posterity. She swayed and wobbled as she stood there, her humiliation complete and deep, very deep into Denial Land.

…o.o.o…

The following day the Trenton Times was sold out in record time. Yes, they had made good of the publications about the mishaps and misadventures of the Bombshell Bounty Hunter. But they had an even better drawcard.

 **FIRED!**

That was the headline. The entire front page was a gallery of photos, very compromising photos of one lowly ex Officer Morelli who had recently been demoted for conduct unbecoming an officer of the law. From Detective Morelli, to Officer Morelli, and now just a disgusting civilian, Joe Morelli, aka, Joe Blow.

 **DISHONORABLY DISCHARGED!**

The photos, all with Morelli, with a woman, sometimes two, whose faces had been pixilated, in Stark Street, motels and alleyways. It was obvious to all and sundry that he was receiving services and many of these so-called services were whilst on he was on the clock. Sometimes his crotch had been fig-leafed, or blacked-out with a large cross, especially one of him handcuffed inside the TPD. There was no mistaking who it was.

 **SHAME!**

A full report and more photos were on page 4 and 5, was captioned on the bottom of the front page. Sensational was an understatement. The phone lines were practically in meltdown. Social media was going berserk.

 **SHAME!**

The Morelli household was besieged by onlookers and gawkers. Bella went outside and tried to give them the evil eye but was stunned by the mocking laughter. She clutched her head and staggered inside.

 **SHAME!**

A slovenly, unshaven, still moderately drunk and hung-over Morelli entered the 711. Silence suddenly descended on the store as customers held their breath, while others held their cameras poised, as he entered through the door. Absent-mindedly he grabbed a coke, a small loaf of bread, a couple of pastries and a newspaper before proceeding to the cashier.

"What?!" He glared.

Everyone froze.

"What the fuck? You got nothing better to do?" He scowled at them.

They all shrugged and some hurriedly departed knowing the impending explosion was going to rock this part of town. He paid for his goods and departed, unaware of the awaiting surprise.

The manager rushed to the door, dimmed the lights, pulled down the blind and turned the sign to CLOSED, just in case he returned. Everyone held their breath and ducked down as a precaution.

And there it was, a mighty roar. Someone gasped, someone giggled and then the laughter and sniggers abounded.

…o.o.o…

 **Hector's POV**

Through the smoke-filled room, following the sound of belligerence and slurred aggression, he grinned slyly, watching the _pendejo_ make more than an ass of himself. He was getting worse each day and he only had himself to blame. His arrogance still had not deflated and he was yet to hit rock bottom and, as always, he was full of shit. He made to get his badge as he threatened the barman once again, who shook his head. Of course, there was no badge anymore and the barman wasted no time in calling for security.

A very large, inked man arrived and stood very close to the _pendejo_ , forcing him to look up, which caused him to sway in the process. He was imposing, dark and muscular evident by the tightly stretched black t-shirt as his bulging biceps flexed. The black tribal ink was like the Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson, but bolder and darker. Probably Polynesian. As soon as he spoke, Hector grinned wickedly. Maori. Yep. New Zealand's finest and he looked like he was a keen fan or even a player of the All Blacks rugby team given the silver fern insignia on his t-shirt sleeve. He would make an interesting Rangeman but Hector waited to see him in action.

"We can do it my way or the hard way. Your choice. What do you think, Bro?" His accent made him sound even more sinister, but it was the quiet authority with which he spoke that made his target swallow nervously.

Morelli blinked dumbly at the mountain of a man in front of him. He should have kept his mouth shut.

"What you looking at, fucker? You a Rangeman thug too?" He slurred and staggered a bit trying to remain upright.

"Wrong answer, Bro."

It only took him two swift jabs and Morelli was on the ground struggling to catch his breath, clutching his jaw.

"Hey, Rangi. No blood inside." Rangi nodded and grinned.

"Let's go, Bro." He grabbed Morelli roughly by his arm and half dragged him towards the door with little effort. A matching man mountain opened the door and together they hauled Morelli over the railing of the ramp into the parking lot.

"We don't expect to see you here again. I assure you, Bro, it won't be pretty. I went easy on you tonight. Consider yourself lucky."

Morelli struggled to get up, the pain in his shoulder now becoming intense as he realised he had a dislocated shoulder. Fiddling with his left hand until he eventually had his cell phone steady enough, he called his brother.

Hector knuckle bumped Rangi and his partner.

"Nice work, hermano."

He was sure that Morelli had also sustained a couple of black eyes, possibly a broken jaw, as well as that dislocated shoulder.

…o.o.o…

After his brief demotion to **Officer** Morelli, Joe had been livid with his treatment. He considered himself a fine detective and had enjoyed the glory of his reputation. His reputation however, was a double barrelled one. This past two weeks were the worst he had ever experienced, since the navy. But that's another story. It was all Stephanie's fault and that Manoso.

His very public dismissal, was humiliating and unfair, from his perspective, of course. He'd been dishonourably discharged and was discovering that being drunk and disorderly wasn't favoured without a badge. He could get away with that before. He'd been kicked out of so many bars and dives that he had lost count. He was waiting impatiently, for his cousin now, since his brother had had a gutful of him. Morelli had gone back to his bar brawling days, but he was finding it tougher not being as young, or as fit, as he used to be. So now he drank alone, drowning his sorrows and wallowing in his misery.

He tried to get a job working behind the bar, even doing security as a doorman. No glory there. He thought getting a job would be easy. His application for janitor at one of the high schools was declined since his police clearance was not approved. He was awaiting a position as a security doorman at a couple of the malls. Stephanie did this. Of course, it was all her fault.

He didn't realise he was deep in Denial Land. His bitterness and hatred skewed his perception and to make matters worse, he had to put his house, Aunt Rose's house that she bequeathed to him, he had to put it on the market to pay for his fines and damages and all that other crap. The compulsory courses, which the bastards made him do, under constant supervision, were at his own cost now as well. Reluctantly, he sold his truck and was now driving a POS hatchback. He thought that would help, but between getting gas, groceries and utilities, and paying rent for his rundown rowhouse in a seedy part of Hamilton Township, his financial reserves didn't last.

He has considered Stark Street, being closer to the Burg and his mother's manicotti. But Stark Street was no longer safe for him without the protecting of his badge. His mother cut him off completely. No more of Mama's delicious homemade manicotti or lasagne. The fact that the Trenton Times front page spread had sent his Grandma Bella into a stroke made matters worse. He was no longer the favourite, no longer their little Joey. Bella never fully recovered losing her capacity to speak and considerable mobility so that she needed a walker to get around inside the house. But she didn't get around at all outside. Secretly, the Burg sent a twisted prayer and breathed a sigh of relief before they quickly crossed themselves.

So, each day Morelli drowned his sorrows and his belligerence always got the better of him. Each day he brooded and blamed Stephanie, and Manoso, for his drastically changed circumstances and how his life had turned out.

...o.o.o…

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Have you ever played dominoes?

….…o.o.o.o.o.o.o…

 _TBC_

 _A big heartfelt THANK YOU for all the wonderful reviews and the thoughtful caring messages of support. I really appreciated that._


	11. Anger Management

**MAKING MOVES: Chapter 11:** **Anger Management**

 _ **Firstly, a great big heartfelt THANK YOU to all you wonderful, thoughtful reviewers out there in FanFiction Land for your kind thoughts, encouragement and heartfelt good wishes. Recovery is good and recent tests indicate a longer life span than initially projected if he had not had immediate surgery. We are so grateful and feel blessed. Every new day is precious. Remission. Joy and relief.**_

 _ **My Muse has been in fits and starts, hampered by fatigue from fear and worry, and chronic pain with complex achilles damage.**_

 _ **Thank you all for staying with me, taking the time to read and especially those wonderful, wonderful reviewers. I will respond to them personally eventually, soon. A special thank you to Ms Margaret for her patience, her sharp wit and keeping me grounded with humour, understanding and encouragement. I think I might miss your subtle, nagging nudges Ms M.**_

 _The usual disclaimers … the characters belong to Janet, I'm making no money, just borrowing them and taking them out for a play…._

 _ **This morning, still dark very early, the plot bunnies, still lingering from Easter or perhaps a chocolate coma, gave me a fresh start to this chapter. I had written the beginning several times but am now very pleased with it and I just couldn't resist this one. So, a little light-hearted change of pace with a tiny bit of smutty goodness.**_

 _ **Now, we need to track back a bit, to when Stephanie emerged from the elevator with Hector and Cal … from the end of Chapter 8 (OMG), just before the dominoes began to tip and tumble … but we all know that they had already been set up by his own folly and misdeeds.**_

 _ **Ranger's POV:**_ _"… Hector and Cal created an appropriate distraction for Stephanie that involved sugary goods from her favourite place, the Tasty Pastry. Watching her trying to grab her pastry from Hector near the elevator and quickly and unashamedly putting the blame on Cal for the contraband evident in his hands, made me smile._

 _I called her into my office, but my need for her took precedence over the need to explain what happened at her apartment."_

 _And here we go!_

 **Chapter 11 Anger Management**

 **Ranger POV**

And like the unsuspecting fly, Stephanie strolled into the spider's lair, or the wolf's lair in this case. And I was hungry, hungry for her. Grabbing her wrist, I yanked Stephanie into my office against my body while simultaneously slamming and locking the door, spinning her around with my body and pinning her to the door. Before she could utter a word, my mouth was on hers in a searing kiss. I plundered her mouth and our tongues battled as she responded to my fierce attack. My hands were in her hair and held her firmly in place until the need for air demanded release and her legs started to give.

I sniffed her neck and her face, all around her mouth and nibbled at the bits of flaky pastry on her chest. She was wide-eyed and breathless.

"Mmm, sweet. Maple pecan. You taste delicious, Babe."

"Wow! Where did that come from?" she so eloquently remarked between gasps as I held her up, my thigh having taken strategic position between her warm thighs, lest she melt into a puddle of lusty goo. I grinned my wolf grin at her surprise and kissed her more tenderly, then on her nose, her cheeks and her luscious swollen lips and down her neck to that favourite sweet spot. She moaned appreciatively.

She eyed me suspiciously when I stopped. I quirked my eyebrow suggestively and smiled wickedly.

"Wanna play a game?"

She nodded slowly in acquiescence, captivated by my smile. Perhaps it was my lust-filled eyes and that I couldn't help but lick my lips. Another chaste kiss. Oh yes. We were on the same page. Hungry and curious, making her grin with intrigue as she tried to raise one eyebrow.

"Let's role play. I'm going to shout at you, Babe. I'm going to be very loud. While these walls are fairly thick they are not totally sound proof."

She tipped her head, interested at where I was going with this. Good. This is going to be fun. I want her. I want her so much. I _need_ her. Right now. But not with all my men outside the door. I breathed her in again. Dios. What this woman does to me.

"Play along. I'm going to be angry and you are going to respond with whatever comes to mind, but angry. Got it?"

She grinned and nodded, her nostrils flared, still catching her breath as her chest moved up and down enticingly.

"Hysterical? You want angry and hysterical, too? But just role play."

"Oh yeah. And just so you know, I _want_ you Babe. Here, right now. But upstairs. Not with the men within hearing range. I won't disrespect you like that. A little lust rage will help, and it could be so much fun, later, when we are alone, upstairs."

I was breathing with ragged breaths and her captivating blue eyes almost had me changing my mind back to Plan A.

"But just so you know, one day I might want to do it on your big handsome desk over there."

Jesus Christ! Nope. Stick to the game plan, Mañoso. Taking a deep cleansing breath, I grinned at her. "Noted. Now, let's do this."

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, **STEPHANIE**?"

"WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Nice. She added a little edginess to her voice.

"CONTRABAND. YOU KNOW IT'S FORBIDDEN." I banged the door for effect. That was sure to get a reaction from the Control Room. She licked her lips! Fuck! She's enjoying this so much already.

"CONTRABAND? WHAT CONTRABAND, **RANGER**?! YOU MEAN THOSE … **DOUGHNUTS**?"

Cute. She was in my face, angry but grinning with wickedness.

"YOU KNOW THEY ARE FORBIDDEN. I HAVE A SERIOUS BUSINESS TO RUN HERE AND I RUN A TIGHT SHIP."

Christ! She squeezed my ass and nodded approvingly, whispering, "Ooh. Tight. Yes, you are, so right," pressing her body closer to mine.

"Playing with fire, Babe."

"Hmmm. Maybe I want to get burned, not just singed a bit, Ranger." She stifled a chuckle, swallowed and composed herself for her retaliative remark.

"DO I LOOK LIKE ONE OF YOUR MEN? I'M NOT A SOLDIER OR A MARINE HERE." Hell no, Babe. You look hot as Hell, with her face was glowing with pseudo temper. Dios. This is such a turn on. Right. My turn.

"TOU ARE A BAD INFLUENCE!"

"WELL, I **NEED** SUGAR. LOTS OF IT SINCE I AM DENIED MY NEED FOR SWEET THINGS TO EAT."

And there was that hysterical edge and then her tongue suddenly took over my mouth. Then she licked her lips deliberately and squeezed my erection, humming in approval.

I roared in frustration and aggravation, loudly, for more than effect for our outer audience, for her game play tactics especially.

"AND AFTER A SHIT DAY LIKE TODAY, I … DESERVE … SOME SUGAR!"

I was stunned with the double entendre. Careful now. This could go pear-shaped very quickly. Then she surprised me with a quick retort.

"WHAT'S THE MATTER, **SIR**? CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE?"

" **COME** WITH ME, STEPHANIE." I growled the words for emphasis but growled loudly again as before. Then I grinned slyly at her, emphasising the 'come' double entendre. Two can play at this game, as I caressed her breasts and let my hands wander to her inner thighs.

"NO. YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" Oh yes, I can. Got to end this quickly. Closure. Now for the finale.

" **THAT'S IT! I'VE HAD ENOUGH**!" (Oh no, not yet.) " **COME ON!** "

"Let's go. Make it look good, Babe," giving her a quick hard kiss. I lifted her up and threw her over my shoulder, grabbing the door handle in readiness.

I could hear the sound of fleeing footsteps and threw open the door, making it bang loudly. I glared at the sudden stillness of the Control Room daring anyone to question my authority. Tank stepped in front of me with his large muscular arms across his chest and I growled. He saw my secretive wink and his eyes widened briefly but oh so slightly.

"Out of my way, Tank. **We** have business to sort out." And I marched for the elevator.

"PUT ME DOWN!" She struggled convincingly as the doors opened on cue. The tension in the room was powerful as a dozen furious pairs of eyes glared at me, hands poised at their weapons. Shock and awe and protectiveness for Stephanie.

"Stand down!" Tank commanded.

As the doors closed Stephanie giggled mischievously, grabbed my ass and gave a finger wave to the stunned men, their mouths agape.

I scrambled the feed, letting Stephanie slide down my front, ever so slowly and took her mouth forcefully again." She moaned appreciatively.

"That was naughty, Babe. You gave the game away."

"I thought they might shoot you and did you not see Hector? He had his knives ready and that made me fold. Sorry. Not sorry."

"You're doing it again, Ranger." I questioned that remark with a quizzical look.

"Sniffing me. Do you know how sexy that is?"

"You smell so good. You're so hot and even more when you are aroused. Definitely sexy."

By the time we reached the seventh floor I dragged her into my apartment so fast and secured the door. We didn't even make it to the bedroom. Our clothes were practically torn from each other's body and I took her hard against the wall. After catching our breaths, I gently rubbed her legs which had a vice-like grip around my torso. She giggled and threw her head back with a thunk.

"Omigod, Ranger. That was so much like angry sex but way better."

"You're okay with that? I hope I didn't hurt you. It took all my self-control not to take you in my office after all and then in the elevator. But you are so right."

Her legs slowly released me, and she slid down. I held her steady as she swayed a little, grinning at me. We both slid down the wall and, between gentle touches and kisses, we quietly recovered from our powerful and passionate release.

Another couple of rounds in the bedroom with tender love-making had us both in raptures of pleasure and wonder.

"You know, sometimes we can be so stupid."

I was intrigued by this remark, but I had a feeling where she was heading with it. I smiled and nodded my head as I lay on my side, face to face, watching her whilst caressing the length of her taut, nicely toned body.

"Like, why did we wait so long?"

Pushing me back, she straddled my lap and began rubbing her moist warmth onto my hardness.

"Hmm. Exactly."

And with that, she hummed again in utter contentment as she slid down onto me with deliberate slowness and brought us to another round of orgasms.

Waking up to her warm body draped comfortably over me, her face snuggled into my neck, made me realise how much I craved this. This is what I want. This feeling of completeness, beyond pleasure and satisfaction, without any innuendo, was so right, so comfortable. Yes, so very right. How very apt she was to refer to Destiny.

I watched her sleeping while gently caressing her exposed skin all over. Even in her slumber she responded with sweet moans. Considering the cardio, well into the night at later intervals, the gym was not on my agenda this morning. I relaxed, listened to her gentle breathing, allowing sleep to take me over the edge.

Sometime later, I made coffee and brought it into the bedroom. Snuggling back under the covers beside her warm body, I watched her waking up. Her hand reached out to me, clasped my fingers and she grinned with a husky, "Hi."

"Good morning, Babe."

I couldn't help the smile as she sniffed the air.

"Coffee? You made me coffee?" To which I nodded. "I think I might keep you, just a bit longer," she teased.

"Right. Just a bit longer, eh?"

"Mm. Yeah. I'll think about it. Although, I'll have to consider your worth."

I grinned knowingly. "I could really make it worth your while, Stephanie. Perhaps, I might even have to get angry with you, again."

We both laughed at that happy thought.

We drank our coffees in contented silence. Yeah. This felt more than good, more than comfortable but certainly not in a running scared in the opposite direction as I thought I might do for self-preservation. Pfft. Self-protection. I wanted to capture this and run towards it. My desire for her goes beyond a sexual desire.

After a long shower, with an unequivocal confirmation that I really am good in the shower, and so was Stephanie for that matter, it was Stephanie who broached the elephant in the room.

"So … I guess I am homeless now."

"What makes you think that?"

She looked pensive for a moment and then surprised me with her calmness and deductions.

"Well. Let's see. My apartment for one. The guys protecting me from any visuals as they quickly ushered me out. The call for back up and the clean up crew, and the bigger evidence kit. That's for starters."

I smiled and encouraged her to go on. She considered her next words carefully.

"Hal and Lester's hard-set faces, like they were trying to contain their anger."

She paused and asked a rhetorical question. "Is it a Rangeman requirement that your men have to learn anger management as part of their training?"

I smiled, as we both lingered on our tantalising little game of role play.

"And then, Hector and Cal, my protectors. And, you know, I don't mind, really, but I did need a really, good diversion. A distraction, and it worked."

"So, what did you really need from your apartment? Is there anything essential still there?" I eyed her cautiously. She surprised me again as she responded without hesitation.

"No. Not at all. I sort of went there thinking exactly that, to see what all else I might need. And, you know what? There's not a damn thing there. Just a lot of bad and creepy memories mixed in with some good memories. But the creepy ones, the dead bodies and all the stalkers, big rabbits, spiders and snakes, and, you know? I don't need that shit any more. I think it's time to move on."

Hallelujah! I pulled her gently onto my lap and took both her hands, kissing them tenderly on her fingertips.

"Yes. I can see that."

"But do you know what really freaks me out? Now, now that I think about it? It was becoming so normal. How did that happen? I seemed to let every man and his dog … Pfft. Especially him too. I let them walk all over me, take over my life, just like my mother and the Burg."

I nodded but remained quiet since she needed to clarify her thoughts on her own terms.

"I've had enough of that. I feel like there is another option, a chance for a fresh start. All this training and up-skilling has made me re-evaluate my life and the people with whom I would like to share it. You and the guys here have supported me and encouraged me and allowed me to grow. I suppose, I'll have to admit, I had to grow up a bit."

She grinned at that, a little sheepishly at the last part. I couldn't agree more, but it was not my decision to make. I facilitated a lot of changes by mentoring and supporting her, protecting her and with the training initially as a Bond Enforcement Agent and these last months in her new training and up-skilling. Yes. She was so very right on all fronts. She looked at me expectantly, my cue for something to say.

"I can understand that, Babe. I'm so damned proud of you. And you have made those decisions of your own accord and look at you now. You are fit and much healthier, stronger both in mind and body."

She smiled in agreement.

"I think it's time. I am going to take you up on your offer. I don't know why I held on to that apartment even then? It's not like it was something to be proud of and it certainly wasn't feeling like home. You've made me feel at home, here, in your apartment." She placed her hand over my heart, "And in here, too," she said quietly and reverently.

I kissed her deeply.

"So that's a yes? You'll move in with me?" I asked hopefully giving her my full high beam smile at 200 watts plus.

"Are you kidding me?"

Uh oh. Not the answer I was expecting. I felt a sudden twinge, but her hand pulled my face to hers and she kissed me, a gentle chaste kiss. Reassuring, not a goodbye kiss.

"Have you seen your bathroom? And your closet? It already has all my stuff here. Yes. I will move in with you. But, in actuality, I have already been moved in for some time. When did that happen? Physically, but not mentally it seems."

She beamed at me and then there was that little mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I might have to consider some anger management here. I feel a surge of _"

Before she could finish her words, I devoured her mouth, 'angrily', and had my way with her. Stephanie was also very 'angry'. There might have been a bit of biting as well, not just nibbles and love nips. Consensual, of course and I left a few marks on her as she did with me, mostly not visible, perhaps just the one, or two. What a great way to deal with our frustrations.

… .o…

 _ **TBC**_

 _Coming up soon, since JoMo Mongrel Moron failed in playing dominoes big time, and, since the domino effect impacted so heavily on his beloved mother, Angie, and let's not forget the evil Bella Morelli … it must be Helen's turn. : ) Cackle, cackle. Rubbing my hands here._

 _I look forward to hearing from you._


	12. Jenga

_Surprise! For all you wonderful people out there in FanFiction Land here is the next update already. Have you played dominoes before where you stack them in rows and they all tumble down one by one, sometimes one at a time and sometimes in bunches falling away? Well, the dominoes are still in motion but let's add Jenga to the mix._

 _For the love of Janet's characters … just playing and not making any money._

 **Making Moves: Chapter 12 Jenga**

 **The Burg's POV**

It seemed like an ominous, heavy hush had descended upon the Burg. The Trenton Times' front-page montage of photos was explicit enough, even with the pixelated parts, and those strategically placed crosses, leaving no doubt as to who the offender was. Although he was not in uniform it was apparent that he was an officer of the law. And, his unmistakeable unpixellated face was clear for all to see. Joseph Morelli.

For the women of the Burg, after the initial shock and awe, it resonated right to the core of their way of life, which was steeped in old traditions like it was still trapped in times gone past. One could be excused for thinking that Chambersburg was a little bubble trapped in the wider city of Trenton, clutching onto the old ways from their European ancestry in Italy, Hungary and Poland, or as if it were still in a 50's mentality. More likely, it was a bit of both, with the older generation.

And there it was, covering the entire front page of the Trenton Times, full blown pictures of many dubious and compromising situations. In your face! Morelli was a dirty cop. Angie Morelli, good strong Italian Christian woman, Ms Holier-Than-Thou's son was a douchebag of huge proportions. More than that, they all knew about her sons and had so frequently told their daughters, "Stay away from those Morelli boys." But this montage was golden. The collective gasps were soon replaced with squeamish delight and cackles of derision. Payback is such a bitch. Take that Angie Morelli!

Profanities and sinister smirks were the majority of the first reactions for the men of the Burg, especially those who had daughters who'd had encounters with those Morelli boys. It was condoned that 'boys will be boys' and young men needed to 'sow their wild oats'. But, heaven forbid, if one of the girls behaved in the same manner, she was immediately tainted with nasty slurs like 'slut' and 'whore'. But the boys were 'studs', admired by their peers and their fathers as well. Go figure.

But here, in all its glory for all to see, it was undeniably clear that Morelli was a devious dirty cop, an abuser and a manwhore. They all knew that, and it was not an exclusive title, but he was the self-proclaimed 'Italian Stallion'. Throughout high school it was common knowledge that he was a notorious 'cherry popper' and he pursued young unsuspecting virgins with his charming ways and a loathsome lust, all the while putting another notch on his belt. From his early wild years and the bar room brawling, after a short stint in the Navy, he became a policeman in Trenton and settled down.

He was, however, a Morelli, through and through, and the apple did not fall far from the tree. His father was a drunkard and an abuser, beating on his wife and children too. It seems that the new moniker was very apt, 'Joe Blow'. Sarcasm and snide remarks and no sympathy or mercy for that Italian _idiota_. Unanimously, they all agreed on one thing, the editor was very ballsy to publish this front page so blatantly. A whole new respect for the new editor. It was a long time overdue that the Morellis were held accountable for their misdeeds and that included their women folk.

Having worked in the Trenton Police Department for more than a decade and rising to the rank of detective, his presence became known to both the criminal community and other people who encountered the TPD law enforcement team. These included other important essential members of the community such as the Mayor, the fire department and the EMTs, CSIs, the coroner's department, members of the legal system and other personnel who worked in partnership with the police.

As a detective, Morelli's reputation was well-known in Trenton but most especially in Chambersburg. He was considered a good cop who worked hard, a standing perpetuated by his mother to redeem his earlier misdeeds. His reputation, however, was a two-faced one. Evidently, many people knew of his seedier side, some were aware but, basically, they turned a blind eye to his misbehaviours and inappropriate actions. It was an insidious situation. These were not recent incidents. The double standards that existed, and which were condoned, were reprehensible. An internal investigation had been instigated by the Mayor to flush out the dirt and clean up the TPD profile. The additional evidence that appeared anonymously on the Chief of Police's desk at the same time as the Mayor received his, reinforced their case unequivocally. It supported their evidence and unquestionably strengthened their joint investigations.

In addition, his colleagues were disgusted with the hypocrisy where Morelli took credit for many solved cases when it was Stephanie Plum who had unravelled the mystery, often by her relentless tenacity in investigating and seeking her FTAs in her role as a bond enforcement agent, a bounty hunter. Not all uniformed officers were Morelli fans, finding some of his methods questionable and unacceptable.

Despite the constant bad press, referring to her as the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, there were members of the media who respected Stephanie. And this is where the Trenton Times finally got it right. The new editor was not influenced or biased by her previous bad press. He admired her persistence and through his own internal investigations and research, he made his team of reporters accountable for their flagrant pettiness over her frequent mishaps, questioning their sources, the twisted accounts and especially by the gross omission of her successes.

Some of her positive and heroic actions were not acknowledged let alone reported. Their bias was influenced by deeply-rooted Burg habits. Like when she rescued or saved people from a burning building. In one of those scenarios, his uncle lived in the same brownstone building as Stephanie and he knew that a fire in one of the elderly resident's apartments was blamed on _**her**_. Yet, it was through Stephanie's quick thinking by calling the fire department that she alerted and saved many of the residents by herself. As a result, there were no serious injuries and the damage was minimised to the other apartments. He felt affronted by the misleading account with the misperception that a burning building plus Stephanie Plum made her the cause and a target of mockery. Photos of her looking wet and bedraggled with singed hair and a sooty smeared face made headlines but did not depict any truth in reporting. Nor did the report acknowledge her bravery in personally rescuing the elderly residents including his very deaf uncle, and even their beloved pets. He felt compelled to right the wrongs and when those compromising Morelli photos arrived on his desk he knew exactly how.

The Burg gossips, AKA the Bitter Bitches of the Burg, always found fault with Stephanie's actions and especially her appearance. They were relentless in their criticism, portraying her as incompetent and beyond her depth in her job as a bounty hunter. Their favourites were when she was covered in food or garbage, after a car bomb or some other explosion and, of course, any time she looked bedraggled and dishevelled. Did they care about her well-being? If she was hurt or injured? Nope. Not a bit. They spread malicious rumours of her alleged ineptitude, and the frequency of her cars exploding were central to their focus. They fed off the salacious gossip. And who were the leading gossips who perpetuated these skewed rumours? Why, Angie Morelli and Helen Plum, of course. Yes, Helen plum, her own mother!

And as the morning papers revealed and exposed the gross misconduct of Joseph Morelli with its bold front-page montage, the people of the Burg were revolted and did a complete backflip. Somehow, they had empowered the Morelli women, Angie and her feared mother Bella Morelli, and Helen Plum, elevating them to a position of power. Good Christian women who baked and cooked for their families and kept their houses clean and their windows gleaming. However, this exposé and all the sordid details blasted away this impression, a total misconception where they all had fallen into line for fear of being on the receiving end of the Morelli-Plum wrath and malicious madness. After this morning's revelations however, they realised how foolish and pathetic they had been. There was an element of shame and remorse, since they were manipulated into their game, powered by fear and the Burg Grapevine. The now disempowered women felt the full brunt of the Burg's disgust and contempt for them.

Angie and Bella Morelli were the first to feel the impact and the repercussions of the audacious Trenton Times' disclosure.

Disgrace.

Disgust.

Shame and condemnation.

That Bella had a stroke and a heart attack was sad and unfortunate, but the Burg celebrated her almost-demise. At the hospital they were no longer given preferential treatment, as was expected previously, but Bella did receive the appropriate care and attention in the emergency department as each patient was prioritised on a needs basis.

Helen Plum was, at this stage, quite oblivious to the drama about to unfold, that would change her life forever, much like Angie and Bella Morelli. Could it get any worse? Ignorance was her middle name

 **Frank's POV**

I was about to sit down with my morning coffee and quietly read the newspaper, glancing briefly at the front page and then scanning the next couple of pages to ascertain where to begin. _What?! Wait a minute._ I hesitated and slowly flicked back to the front page as it dawned on me what was in that montage, initially thinking it was some trash about my second daughter again as they had so often done.

 **FIRED!**

 **DISHONORABLY DISCHARGED!**

 **SHAME!**

 **SHAME!**

 **SHAME!**

It took but a moment to digest the implications of these words and the accompanying photos.

" _Bastardo! Testa di cazzo_!" I slammed my fist on the table making the coffee cup tumble and spill over the tablecloth. I didn't give a damn. Edna peeked curiously over my shoulder. So, I folded the paper in half to show her the full spread as I held it up to her. _(Bastard! Dickhead!" Italian)_

" _Basszus_!" _("Oh shit!" Hungarian)_

She gasped and then her eyes gleamed. I knew that look.

"Helen, have you seen the paper?" Edna called to the kitchen where she was preparing breakfast.

"No. Frank has it. Please don't tell me Stephanie is making headlines again," she replied with disdain from the kitchen. "It's about time she changed jobs and married that nice detective Joseph Morelli."

Edna choked and spat her coffee over the tablecloth at Helen's stupid and ignorant remark. Rolling her eyes, she gave a knowing look to Frank.

"Morelli curse, my ass! Sucks to be you, Joe Blow. What goes around comes around." I muttered. Poor Edna did it again, more coffee over the tablecloth.

"You know she is not interested in him, Helen. She has that nice man in black, Ranger. He looks out for her, unlike Joe."

"Oh, for goodness sake. Not that thug. He's not good enough for her. He's a criminal, you know. Joseph told me."

Oh boy. This was going to be interesting once she digests this information. They say a picture tells a thousand words. I think there are more than a few thousand here alone. Wait until she sees the reports on page four and five with the rest of the photos. Helen came into the dining room drying her hands on her apron. She gasped when she saw the tablecloth, totally ignoring the newspaper.

"Oh, Frank. Tsk. I must get another tablecloth. Can't possibly have these coffee stains. You never know who might drop in unexpectedly. What would they think? Now I'll have to soak it. Oh. Why me?"

Oh, her customary 'why me', again! I'd be a rich man for every time she said that. She rambled on taking the coffee cups to the kitchen and returning for the tablecloth. Edna just grinned at me.

"I suppose you want a fresh cup now?"

This was said with that annoyed pseudo-motherly, sarcastic tone of hers. Spreading the clean freshly-ironed tablecloth over the table, tut-tutting as she did, she bustled back with new cups and a coffee pot. Edna and I watched and waited. It was evident she was already tippling with her breath giving her away. I rolled my eyes and couldn't help but think that Stephanie would have been proud of me for that. While she was pouring my coffee, I could smell the bacon cooking in the kitchen. Helen's eyes suddenly popped wide, her jaw dropped, her mouth agape like a goldfish, and she froze, mid pour. The coffee kept pouring, spilling over the rim, slowly overflowing onto that nice clean tablecloth. Her eyes had just caught the headlines or perhaps it was the pictures, whichever it was did not matter because recognition dawned. Edna was enthralled with her daughter's reaction and behaviour. In shock, Helen sat down heavily, almost missing the chair, as I removed the coffee pot from her tightly gripped hand. She had lost hold of my coffee cup and it shattered from the table onto the floor. No reaction like she hadn't heard anything. Her mouth opened and closed, and all the colour had drained from her face. Her shoulders slumped, her mouth silently opening and then closing staring at the display on the cover of the illustrious Trenton Times.

"Omigod!" and she quickly crossed herself. Suddenly she rushed into the kitchen and we could hear the pantry cupboard open and close and the clink of glass. It was Edna's turn to roll her eyes. And here was me thinking she was going to be sick. Pffft! Helen returned with her 'iced tea' and her face a bit flushed now. Edna was quietly watching her daughter, assessing her, arms folded whilst sitting back, waiting for her response. Then Edna dashed quickly into the kitchen to turn off the bacon and whatever else was cooking and rushed back eagerly, lest she missed anything. Breakfast was well and truly ruined by now anyway.

"This has to be Stephanie's fault." She just found her voice and that was not the response I expected. _Seriously?_

"Oh. Come on, Helen." But she didn't even hear me and kept prattling on. I was stunned how she could possibly assume that Stephanie could have anything to do with it.

Pointing and waving her hand over the page, shaking her head in denial, her shrill voice increasing with each statement.

"It can't be Joseph! They must be mistaken. They must have photo-shopped these photos. I bet those thugs did this. Stephanie shouldn't be hanging around with all those dangerous men. What will the neighbours think? She needs to settle down and marry –"

"Helen. Helen! For Chrissake Helen! Shut up! Do you hear yourself? How can you say this about Stephanie? This has nothing to do with her, nor with Ranger and his fine men."

Before she could interrupt me, I slammed my fist onto the table, startling her and making her jump. Perhaps it was the thump, perhaps it was my tone. It was shock all the same.

"You let this moron into our house and sit at my dinner table? You invited this douchebag into our home? Even when Stephanie said she was not interested in marrying him?"

Edna beamed at me and muttered, "It's a long time overdue for you to man up and have some balls to finally tell her."

Helen sat there, mouth agape looking stunned like a mullet, slightly shaking her head in shock and denial, lots of denial.

"But Frank …"

"No. No more Helen. I want to eat my breakfast in peace. I have had more than my fill of your constant moaning. Not another word. It's not about you. It's not about Stephanie. Stephanie had nothing to do with this, this _bastardo_. It's all on him. I have allowed you to oversee the girls and their discipline and such. But, what you have been doing to our second daughter is appalling. I regret that I did not see this any earlier."

I stood up abruptly, forcing her to look up at me.

"Read this Helen. Read it all, especially the inside story. Don't do anything but read and read it all you will. And get rid of that whiskey! Your 'iced tea'. Stupid woman. You think I don't know? You're drunk, and you have become a lush. We haven't even had breakfast yet!"

"Edna. I have had more than a gutful. Let's go get breakfast somewhere. I know a diner that makes a mean cup of coffee. And delicious pancakes. Whatever. You name it. Let's go."

Edna did not even hesitate. She took my outheld arm and together we left the Harpy alone in her misery. I'm sure she'll have a party with her friends Jim, Jack and the Turk. I'll deal with that later.

"You know Edna, I won't be staying here tonight, anytime soon. I think it's time for me to go to the Lodge. What about you? I can drop you off somewhere, if you like."

"Good. I'll take you up on that. I need to go and get a few things and an outfit for this afternoon. I have a road trip with the girls from the Bingo. We're going to Atlantic City. I'll bunk with Marjorie Swinsiski. She won't mind."

 **The Burg's POV**

The Burg was abuzz with the sensational headlines. The pictures didn't need any explanation. It seemed everyone was smugly satisfied and mostly relieved that, he, Joe Blow Morelli the Manwhoring Moron was finally exposed. Frank had some in-depth discussions with his couple of passengers before he got to the Lodge. No love lost there. He planned to stay a night or two, more if needed. Everyone there understood and were supportive and sympathetic.

And Helen? She did have a conversation by herself with Jim and Jack and then grabbed the Turk to join them. Besides, two's company, three's a crowd and four is much better. By this stage she was quite sozzled. When Edna and Frank returned later that afternoon, she was passed out on the floor and looked dreadful. The place was a mess. She didn't even stir. Edna packed an overnight bag and a duffle bag with some essential items. She was taking a break from her daughter but would probably be back for a short period of time. Shaking his head in disapproval and disgust, Frank quickly left the room, waiting on the front porch for Edna before he locked up, leaving Helen to sleep off her bender. Edna rang Stephanie to let her know how the Queen of Denial was not taking the D news well. She explained her plans with Marjorie and that Frank would be at the Lodge.

Stephanie offered Edna her old apartment, since she had officially moved in with Ranger at Haywood. Edna was delighted on both counts. The apartment had been totally gutted, freshly painted, retiled - especially that hideous bathroom - and refitted with new fixtures and appliances. Ranger and his men arranged to have it newly furnished for her as a surprise and Ella would stock the pantry and the fridge with some prepared meals and necessary items until she was ready on her own terms. It was a spectacular make-over with practical curtains and blinds. Stephanie felt it was a perfect place for her grandmother and she'd fit right in with the other elderly residents. It was safe since the security was overseen by Rangeman now.

Helen woke up in the dark with a massive hangover somehow sprawled out on the floor. She couldn't remember how she got there. Drinking on an empty stomach was not such a good idea. She stumbled up the stairs and taking some Tylenol she staggered into the shower and cleansed until the water almost ran cold. By this time the sun was just rising, much to her surprise, leaving her a bit confused. She decided to make breakfast to redeem herself as somehow, she seemed to have lost a day. She was surprised to see the bed empty, thinking perhaps Frank had an early fare and kindly made the bed. Perhaps. Pfft. Her mother was not there either. It seemed that neither bed had been slept in, but she didn't dwell on that.

Going down to the kitchen she was aghast at the mess. After cleaning up the uneaten breakfast and scrubbing the kitchen, soaking the stained tablecloths and mopping the floors, she sat down with a strong cup of coffee and some toast. She glanced at the uncharacterically silent phone. It had been quiet for a while, as in weeks. The day passed without visitors or calls. Busying herself with cleaning and sweeping helped take her mind off the uncomfortable hinkey feeling she had. She ate alone. She drank alone. No one came home for lunch, so she put the sandwiches away. No one came when the dinner was served at six on the dot. She hid the bottles outside under a bucket with the mop. Making herself some fresh iced tea, she stared at her surroundings and for the first time in her life she felt uneasy. Another day passed, and she was alone again, alone and wallowing in her misery venturing deeper into Denial Land.

Frank arrived next morning and packed a bag with most of his things. Helen was already three sheets to the wind and was looking rather dishevelled. And here it came, that hinkey feeling. Before Frank left he gave her an envelope. She looked up in surprise and swayed a bit, still confused. Divorce. He wanted a divorce. She shrieked at him and then went into one of her catatonic-like states. The full implications did not register and for the rest of the day she remained in a drunken stupor. The open envelope and its official paperwork lay there on the sideboard, mostly ignored. Hunger made her move and the urgent need for the bathroom. Making furtive glances as she walked past them each time, the ramifications had not hit her yet.

Frank left, and Edna returned. No explanation. She also packed a bigger bag of all her belongings and had them picked up by one of those shiny black cars. Helen's voice was dry and husky. She had screamed at Frank with her "Why me?" and "What will the neighbours think? We're Catholic. Good Catholics don't do divorce."

Edna noticed the red-rimmed eyes and her untidy state of dress with her hair mussed up. When did she last have a shower? Is she still wearing yesterday's clothes? There were empty bottles in the sink and on the table. No glasses. Yikes. She had progressed deeper into her alcoholism. When she repeatedly ignored offers of assistance, Edna put her daughter on notice.

"Clean up your act and dry out! You're on your own now, Helen. I can't help you anymore. You've dug yourself into a deep hole. Wallow in it or climb out and clean yourself up. It's on you now."

Helen burrowed deep into Denial Land, where it was safe from judgement and making decisions. By the following week she was in and out of coherent thought. She was coherent enough to buy her booze and she was careful not to be seen driving, or so she thought. Not careful enough. She was booked for driving under the influence and had to walk the rest of the way home whining and complaining all the way, unaware of the neighbours who took some happy snaps, delighting in seeing the usually prim and proper Helen Plum looking so untidy and worse for wear. Not a pretty sight. The police officer had given her a piece of paper and then another, a fine and an order to appear in court at a date to be advised. She crumpled them up and tossed them into her bag.

Ironing was her go-to stress management plan. She ironed everything. Twice if she ran out. She even redid the minimal laundry just so she had something fresh to iron. With all that furious ironing, the cord was getting frayed. She burnt her hand on the iron when she meant to grab her bottle of Jim – much easier than grabbing just a glass. As she flinched, Jim fell over and created a spark. She dropped the iron in shock. Before Helen realised it, the laundry basket on the chair was aflame. She panicked and poured the remains of the bottle onto the fiery laundry to douse the flames. Big mistake. Suddenly there was a whoosh as the flames shot up, singeing her hair and catching her apron alight. Ripping it off she stamped her foot on the apron successfully killing the flames. When she turned around her kitchen was on fire. Wiping her brow with the apron she dashed outside, quickly grabbing her friends Jack and the Turk for company and moral support.

The neighbours rushed over to see if she was alright and had already called the fire department. It looked like the EMTs would be required since she had a few burns to her hands, on her arm and part of her scalp. She looked a mess with a sooty face and her hair singed. Her eyebrows were uneven, since one had disappeared completely when the flames went whoosh. More photos were taken but she was oblivious by now and too far gone to even care. She hugged the Turk as she took a long swig from her old friend Jack humming to herself, her head shaking slowly from side to side as she rocked. She was going into shock. One of the EMTs had wrapped her in one of those silver space blankets. The enormity of what had just transpired was beyond her comprehension now.

When the police came she was quite incoherent.

"But I was only ironing," a confused Helen whined, "Just ironing. Whoosh! It went whoosh … a _**big**_ whoosh. Flames. I tried to put it out …" Through bleary blue eyes she looked up at the officer, almost falling over.

"Whoosh …" Her eyes glazed over and that was as much as they would get from Helen Plum any time soon.

She withdrew into herself clutching Jack and the Turk like Linus would clutch his blankie. The officers wondered, reserving judgment, but the bottles were a dead give-away.

"Ma'am, you can't stay here today. Is there anyone we can call for you? I don't think you are in any condition to drive."

One of the neighbours gave them Valerie's details.

Between the two bottles and her state of dress, the alcohol on her breath was enough to confirm their suspicions. The senior fireman confirmed that there was a short circuit and the burnt-out remains in the kitchen confirmed the iron was the point of ignition from his initial investigations. The fire had progressed rapidly upstairs when the gas tanks exploded. Glancing over his shoulder, the house was cordoned off with crime scene tape while the firemen were still dousing the upstairs and rooftop flames to keep the adjoining duplex flame free. He hoped they had insurance.

The EMTs had treated her for minor burns. Reporters came and took footage of the burning house and then zoomed in on the pitiful sight that was Helen Plum. A Trenton Times journalist was there too, recording the details on a tablet, taking photos, very compromising photos of Helen Plum.

Valerie had come to collect her mother when the police rang on Helen's behalf since she had nowhere else to go. She got quite a shock from just receiving the call, the first of many shocks that would hit her morning. But that was the least of her worries. Valerie had no idea how bad her mother's drinking habit had become.

Because of all the emergency vehicles and reporters and gawkers, Valerie had to park four houses down the road on the other side since even the driveway was inaccessible. Watching the scene unfold in front of the house where she grew up, with smoke and steam still rising from the upstairs windows and the rooftop, she almost cried. Desperately, she scanned through all the onlookers and emergency workers to find her Mom. She was sitting on the driveway in a folding chair, wrapped in a silver blanket, with a dazed expression, unaware of the mayhem going on around her.

Valerie was horrified at how her mother looked and smelled, checking if she was alright. Not only was she smoky and singed, her mother reeked of alcohol! She thanked the nearby officer standing guard and explained who she was. When she asked how it happened, he informed Valerie that her mother was in shock. He gave her an information pamphlet which described how to deal with someone in shock. The officer explained that they suspect it was likely to be a short circuit from the iron, which was all he could tell her. A full report would take some days after a full investigation. He suggested she bring her car closer and would keep an eye on her Mom. Trying to depart the scene quietly, Helen was ranting drunkenly, slurring that this was all Stephanie's fault. The neighbours shook their heads. Poor Valerie felt a deep shame and finally got her recalcitrant mother into the minivan.

On the news that evening, the Burg got to see a pathetic looking Helen Plum. The editor approved a half page report with photos and was quietly pleased that he was able to right another wrong for the morning newspaper. No mention of Stephanie. The Burg was having a field day. They say bad luck happen in threes. First Joe, then his mother Angie and Grandma Bella and now Helen Plum. But that made four. Pffft. Who cares?

Helen's stay with Valerie barely lasted a week in that small household. She had warned her mother about drinking in front of the girls. When she nearly dropped Lisa, Valerie was practically hysterical. Thankfully Albert's quick reflexes prevented Lisa from landing on her head. She couldn't believe how her mother had become such a drunkard.

A representative from the court came to the door with papers for a court date for her mother. Now this. Valerie had a reputation to uphold in her neighbourhood and this was fast becoming a huge embarrassment. In exasperation, Valerie had almost reached the point where she was ready to pack her mother's things and drop her off at a homeless shelter. And like role reversal, she sent her mother to her room. This was difficult, since they only had a small home. Mary Alice and Angie had to share a room so that Helen had a bed. They were able to borrow a bunk bed which pleased the girls.

In vain, Valerie tried to ring Stephanie, but she was unavailable. Something about her being overseas? What's with that?

This was so much extra stress for Valerie and Albert. Helen complained about everything. The girls did not want to sit next to their Grandma. Every day Valerie found a bottle, hidden in the house, not just in her bedroom. The day she found three bottles after a deliberate and thorough search Valerie reached breaking point. She scolded her mother and threatened to evict her. She was sick of the "after all I have done for you" and "you were the good daughter", whining and nagging simultaneously. It was unbearable and relentless. She needed an escape and that's when she left the house without Helen. She wanted to scream and cry and in exasperation she did both, breaking the broom as she whacked it against the wall. Albert was at work, at least he had that escape. Her part-time job had to be deferred until things settled down. But they could not afford to do this for an extended period. Each night Albert and Valerie argued about her mother and money, and how they were going to make ends meet.

Helen was good at somethings still but only when it suited her. She did the laundry and she ironed. She liked to iron and that seemed to calm her. Sometimes she baked cookies for the girls but even that was a chore since Valerie had the ingredients in different places, not organised like Helen had. Criticism from her own mother was not something Valerie was accustomed to and suddenly she realised how tough it had been for her sister. Sarcasm was wielded without remorse and inflicted to cause pain. Valerie was finding it extremely stressful and difficult to manage.

There was a knock at the door. Valerie wasn't expecting visitors. When she came to the door, which Helen had answered, she was shocked to see her mother being placed in handcuffs.

"Helen Plum. You have missed your court appearance and your fines for driving under the influence are outstanding. You are to come with us, since you skipped bail." Another person, a woman, appeared from the right to assist in taking Helen in.

Valerie was totally stunned. In a mute daze she watched her mother reluctantly get taken to the car. She was getting hysterical as they put her in the vehicle, but they calmly ignored her. What a relief that the girls were at school and thankfully Albert's mother had taken Lisa for the day. Valerie breathed a huge sigh of relief. First, she went to the bedroom and packed all her mother's things and placed them near the door. Then she went into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee to have with some of those freshly made cookies. Home alone and peace at last.

... .o...

 _TBC_

 _HOWZAT?!_

 _KAPOW!_

 _And like dominoes tumbling over, having played Jenga, you know you build a_ _ **lofty tower**_ _(nudge, nudge; wink, wink) and then when some of the pieces are removed, it rocks the foundations testing the stability until all the pieces collapse. Pretty clever, huh?_ *cheeky grin*

 _Now you see why Stephanie and Ranger had to have their luscious (fake angry) interlude as a much-needed, light-hearted pause with a chapter of levity after Joe Blow and before I hit you with this one_. ; ) *Cackle, cackle*

 _But what about JoMo Blow? And, why is Stephanie overseas?_

 _I look forward to your impressions. Go on. Press that review button. You know you wanna._

xox


	13. Dodge

**Making Moves: Chapter 13: Dodge**

 _All the mistakes are mine alone. Just playing with my favourite characters from Janet._

 **Ranger's POV**

Tank and I had a conversation regarding the fallout to come. His projections had tangible probability and we needed to be prepared. Essentially, Stephanie needed to be protected. But, with her new attitude and outlook, we had to consider the options and not make the decisions for her like a standing order. We both knew she could shoulder the impact, but we thought a change of scenery could benefit us all.

Before the Core Team meeting I asked Stephanie to join us but firstly I wanted to give her a heads up, so to speak, without innuendo. She smiled at my choice of words, her lips sealed while looking up at me with those now curious blue eyes, one eyebrow lifted slightly. She grinned because she knew I noticed.

"Been practising, Babe?" I whispered into her ear. She shuddered but decided that curiosity trumped lust bearing in mind that we had a very satisfying cardio start to the day.

"You like the beach, and this might be the last warm weekend before the cool change hits. The team needs a break and what better way to debrief with some team building fun and games than a day at the beach? We have a house not far from Point Pleasant, a safe house, on the beach. What do you reckon? Are you in?"

Here she clapped her hands and jumped in delight like it's been a long time between visits. This, in fact, is true. Considering her new regime and committing to her fitness and work ethic so whole-heartedly, the last time either of us was at the beach was when I took her away some four months ago when Destiny stepped in and changed both our lives. A memorable time for the simple reason to escape and refocus. Stephanie needed that break then and the beach is her go-to place to think and centre herself. It also marked a distinctive change in both of us moving forward, together, in the same direction. Destiny indeed.

The expression of realisation on her face as I hummed the "Feeling Good" tune morphed quickly into an overwhelming smile, rivalling my 200 watts.

"Was that really the last time? Summer has almost gone past us and I can't believe it's been that long. I guess we have been busy." In more ways than one. She nudged me in the ribs when I gave her my wolf grin.

"So, what's the deal?" Just as I like, cutting straight to the chase.

"It's going to get ugly in Trenton this week. Very ugly. It might be wise to remove ourselves, both of us, from here."

Stephanie was really intrigued now as she thought about the implications of my cryptic words. Understanding reflected in her face.

"Both of us? Together?"

A knock at the door and Tank and the rest of the Core Team entered, sitting around the conference table acknowledging us both with a smile and a nod.

"Steph, gentlemen. I called this meeting for two purposes. First and foremost, tomorrow we are off to the beach safe house for some fun and relaxation. It looks like the warm weather will be soon behind us. It's been a busy quarter and the team deserves a break to celebrate, debrief and rebuild, and just chillax. I'll email the finer details after this meeting."

This was met with unanimous approval.

"Secondly, with the release of those recent photos and that wonderful Trenton Times montage, Trenton is going to get ugly, or rather, uglier. Well, at least, certain elements of it."

Everybody nodded in agreement.

"Shit yeah," muttered Santos and Hal in unison.

"After this weekend, I suggested to Ranger, that he and Steph should use this as the perfect opportunity to take a longer break, to escape the up-coming shit storm. Escape in the sense of avoiding unnecessary involvement. Escape, not retreat."

Stephanie looked at me and seemed to be hopeful and comfortable with that idea. I squeezed her hand under the table making her smile.

"Wow. I had never considered it like that. But I like the idea of escape as in not retreat. I can run with that. But do I need a passport? I've only been overseas to Hawaii. But that's still in the States."

"Yes, Babe. You do have a current passport." I grinned at her.

"Oh. Of course, I do." She shook her head in mock dismay.

Tank had the floor once again.

"The ramifications to Morelli and the women in his family has already had a powerful impact on their daily lives and on the Burg. Your mother, Steph, will also feel the brunt of it. I don't think you need to bear witness to any of the Burg crap and you know as much as we all do, Morelli and your mother will blame you regardless. Morelli has gone back to his old ways and is an angry, nasty drunk. We have eyes on him and his threats to you are now even more in the stalker category. He is becoming dangerous and unpredictable and as much as every man in this room and within this entire building would happily permanently rid Trenton of his body, in a variety of painful ways, it would be poetic justice for him to get his comeuppance from his precious Burg. We have shown great restraint. We keep our hands clean. That's a no brainer." This was said with warning.

Here the men all muttered curses under their breaths as not only their hands indicated their strong disappointment in not being able to mete out an appropriate form of justice. So many possibilities.

"Stephanie, we are so proud of you and how you have made this transition into Rangeman. With your decision to take control of your own destiny and allowing us all to help you in your journey to achieving this independence and skill building, you have made us a special family. You defend us fiercely and treat us like brothers who are worthy of respect. You are a vital member of the Rangeman team and"

Stephanie accepted the praise with a blush and a smile for each of her personal trainers.

"Thirdly, by you and Ranger taking extended leave, even out of country," and here he paused as Stephanie absorbed that little tempting morsel. Her head whiplashed to me and her face lit up. Tank continued.

"This will allow the "Burg back stabbing nature" to run its course and the shit can hit the fan while we observe from the sidelines. This is an opportunity for you to 'get the hell outta Dodge'. We all agree that you have had more than your fair share of crap and bullshit from the Burg and Trenton itself, a lifetime's worth. The new editor of the Trenton Times is a fan of yours since you rescued his deaf father and many other residents when there was a fire in your building earlier this year. He feels indebted to you and is righting the wrongs of that gossip rag. Morelli is his new target and we can guess who might be next."

Stephanie blew a stray curl off her forehead and smiled appreciatively at the room full of men.

"In the meantime, your old apartment is as good as new, better than it ever was before. We have refurnished it for your Grandma, we have made it cosy and comfortable with your input and a lot of Ella's help. For the transition, Ella has stocked the fridge and the pantry. The freezer has some ready-made meals for when she moves in. She will get a surprise. And, the locks have been changed."

Steph whispered misty-eyed thanks and breathed a sigh of relief.

Edna calling to inform us of the sudden and immense changes was very timely as the shit storm gained impetus. Together we had already discussed these new changes to her family as we became aware. This was a difficult time, but she faced the inevitable fallout with strength. Not her problem. Not her fault. Not her cause to solve.

When Steph suggested her old apartment, Edna was so delighted and relieved to have her own place with neighbours of the same age, she was totally speechless. Stephanie did however make one demand of her grandmother, a promise, to which she conceded quite readily. "No molesting my Rangemen, Grandma! Or the deal is off! No hands, no grabs, no pinches on the ass. You have to behave yourself."

We will cover her rent when she moves in next week.

All these sudden changes had both good and bad effect and we wanted to make amends for her grandmother always showing Steph her support. She had very little option but to stay with Helen and that was like a death sentence and undeserving. So, this opportunity gives her that bit of independence. That harpy of a mother can look after herself, in whatever capacity she can. Her father had his own means to support himself and when Stephanie spoke with him, he was heading south, out of Jersey, to stay with his older brother and catch up on some fishing. He was okay with his decision for divorce and was not backing down. He dodged a bullet with that one! I laughed when Steph told me Frank's comment about his soon to be ex-wife. "Helen has reached her use by date! Overdue and over-pickled with her damned 'iced tea'!"

Tank continued after a brief break, using the time for Stephanie to have a drink and gather her thoughts.

"We have added security to the foyer with cameras upon entry and in the elevator and especially on the landing outside her door. We anticipate an unwelcome visitor or two and have it closely monitored. In the meantime, while you two are out of country, we can have some fun, messing with Morelli's head."

This was met with excited applause and high fives. Yes, my men clapped, thrilled with the impending mind games.

"You have adhered to our policy of partnering at all times. He has seen you in the field and initially it was evident he didn't recognise you in your new fitter stronger persona. Your visit to Pino's with Lester last week was very timely. He seems to think that you and Ranger have had a falling out. His threats have escalated. "If I can't have her, no-one else will." And "She was mine first." Aside from all the usual slanderous slurs, he is increasingly becoming a concern. Morelli has been asking about Stephanie, maligning and blaming you for his stupidity. Kidnapping might be on his list. He has already tried stalking some of our men and tailing our vehicles, both not successfully. So, we might need to let him think he has the upper hand, under false pretences."

"Yeah. He tried but we were tailing him all the way," added Cal. "We know his new hangouts and his movements are pretty much the same." This was met with sarcastic chuckles and mutterings of dickhead and other pleasantries.

"A regular patrol will always be engaged as part of the new security plan and for back up. We know Morelli has been in the vicinity and saw Steph with Miguel and Santos while you were there overseeing the renovations and refit. This can work to our advantage. We are anticipating that he considers this for your benefit, Steph, moving back into your old apartment, not knowing that you've been here at Rangeman for some time."

Tank continued. "I will need a volunteer to be with Edna in case he does gain entry."

Santos leapt up eagerly.

"Pick me!"

Stephanie was stunned at his enthusiasm surely thinking the men would all step back from this option.

"Done. Perfect. Looking at Miguel, his slighter build gives us an interesting opportunity to mess with him. A simple cap with his ponytail just like you wear yours would be all it needs. Santos with darker hair could easily pass as Ranger with his hair tied back. Wearing our standard Rangeman uniform, the cap and sunglasses makes it easier. He will only get a fleeting glance. Just enough to press his buttons and wind him up a bit. We could mix it up and really screw with him, multiple sightings, you know. We'll nut that out further."

"What about Big Blue?" Santos enquired.

"Yeah, good point. You can drive Edna around and be seen with her and Miguel, posing as Steph too. Whatever you can come up will work without a doubt."

"Sweet. I love that classic muscle car."

"I know Grandma will enjoy all this cloak and dagger stuff. Just don't give her a knife. And make sure she doesn't have Betsie with her."

"Betsie?"

"The gun she carries in her purse. She doesn't use a cookie jar. We might have to investigate that."

Every man was shaking his head. Stephanie grinned at their reactions.

"She's never been a Morelli fan. She calls him 'the horse's patoot' and would love to see him get more than an ass kicking. And anything that will help dethrone the Queen Bees, Angie Morelli and my mother, will be a bonus and make her day. They can be collateral damage." Steph added with relish.

"Right. Morelli can be the catalyst in his own demise. He's done enough to sink his own boat. He has lost many of his allies with his corruption. His community service at the women's shelter was short-lived and he had to be escorted off the premises. Flirting with vulnerable clientele caused a lot of anxiety and it's not productive in their recovery nor for their safety. I can't believe that this was even a consideration for community service. He's been on clean up and sanitation duties since. By the way, Vinnie declined his bond, since he has fines owing and has ignored his day in court. Les Seebring has done the deed but … We. Are. Not. Involved."

This was met with expletives and snide mockery that he was an FTA. Stupid fucker.

"As much as we would love to be the BEAs to bring him in, we stand back and let him shoot himself in the foot. He has not attended his AA and Anger Management sessions consistently. That was a deal breaker. This should be interesting. Dismiss. Get prepped for the weekend."

o.O.o

 **Stephanie's POV**

Lying here on the beach with all this testosterone and glistening buff bodies was no hardship at all. A girl could get used to this. Ranger had massaged in some sun screen making sure I was well-covered and left me in a state of lusty goo. I sighed. He's got good, strong hands. I declined the offer to play Dodge. They were too serious with their throws and besides, it was a much better view from here and safer. No bruises this way.

Woody and Ram had set up the beach volleyball which was most invigorating to watch. Between the games and the swimming and some wrestling, they were like big strong buff kids playing on the beach. The tantalising smell of fried onions lured us back to the beach house very quickly. With that hungry horde it was best to be there quickly, or you miss out.

Hector and Zip manned the grill while Hal and Les had the salads and bread rolls ready on the deck table. Steaks, hamburgers, sausages, fried onions and vegetable skewers were the delicious selection with platters of fruit and drinks on the side table.

This was wonderful. I made a steak burger and added some onions and salad with some homemade barbecue sauce by Ella. I moaned into the first bite.

"Oh yes. Mmm."

"Steph."

I looked around. Oops. Got it.

"Aw. Come on guys. This is so good. Better than Pino's."

The afternoon cooled off quickly. After a shower and a quick change into comfy sweats I joined the men around the fire pit. Woody offered me some marshmallows to toast. I love toasted marshmallows. Hal prepared me some S'mores. Omigod. So scrumptious. I love these guys.

Tank was right. We all needed a break. I leaned back against Ranger's front on the chaise longue while the men shared stories and funny episodes in skip captures. With the crackling of the logs on the fire and the deep resonant timbre of their voices, and a belly full of good tucker, I was lulled into restful sleep.

I was awakened as Ranger gently lifted me to take us upstairs to our room, bidding the guys goodnight.

"That was a perfect day, Ranger. We all needed that. You too. A change of pace from Bossman does you good. All the muscles and laughter and relaxation. It's a rare sight to see you let your guard down."

Of course, a full body massage from Ranger made it even more divine and top that with making love before we retired for the night. I sighed into him and rested my head on his chest.

The morning was cool and fresh, but we ran together as the sun rose on the east side. A few of the guys joined us on the return journey. No mistaking the SEALs as they were in the ocean, swimming a mile or five, just for a warm up and they joined us as well.

Breakfast was self-serve in the kitchen and we all spilled onto the deck with the morning sunshine. Vince and Ram had made eggs and bacon and I added some fruit to my plate. I'm a happy camper as I watched Ranger enjoying his granola and a bagel with lox. He smiled. It was good to see this side of him. And, as if he knew what I was thinking, he winked at me.

"There's more of that to come, Babe." He kissed me on the lips and took my plate as I watched his nice ass walk away.

Lester and Bobby laughed at me, because I must have said the 'Mm-mm' out loud. I facepalmed and shook my head. Caught. I had to laugh. This was like seeing the flipside of these strong, hardworking men. I didn't really get to see them in this light very often, not totally relaxed like this, I mean. It was therapeutic for everyone.

It was a change to see them all out of their black uniforms in a more colourful array of board shorts, tank tops, t-shirts and open shirts, enjoying the mild weather. A couple of loud Hawaiian shirts added to the mix and we all looked the epitome of relaxed.

We all cleaned up and loaded the dishwasher. I grabbed a book to lie in the sun on the deck overlooking the ocean. I was distracted by a silent movement to my right.

"You won't be reading too much, Chica. Not with all this lovely manscape to view." He grinned at me and I had to agree. I put the book down. I couldn't even remember the title. They were back on the beach. They were playing games and messing around but still doing serious workouts in relays on the soft sand. Team building. I'll just watch.

After a little snooze, I decided to walk along the beach. Hearing footfalls behind me I turned to see Ranger. He slung his arm around my shoulder.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah. Really. I didn't realise how much I needed to get away from Trenton. It's been a lot to take in lately, both good, really good and then the other stuff."

He stopped and turned me to face him, holding my face tenderly he kissed me, a long slow, luscious kiss.

"What was that for?"

"Do I need a reason, Babe. I find you irresistible and I have had to restrain myself a number of times. But I don't mind."

"So, I have a passport?"

He grinned at me again, the full 200 watts.

"Where would you like to go, Steph? Have you been overseas before?"

"Pfft. Only Hawaii. And that was a bit of a disaster in the end. But never beyond the States. I don't think I have had a vacation away from Jersey."

"Well, what about overseas, not in the States?"

I was excited about that prospect.

"Somewhere warm with sunshine and more of this." I kissed him this time and he took full advantage. Oh, this was going to be good as I lost all coherent thought.

"Earth to Babe?"

o.O.o

 _TBC_

 _Where will they go overseas?_

 _How's the shitstorm going to pan out in the Burg? How far will Joe go?_


	14. Renegades

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 14**

 **Renegades**

 _All the mistakes are mine. Just playing with Janet's special characters who we love to see so much more. Thanks to FanFiction and the Plumverse we can. Babe all the way._

 **o.O.o.**

Tank and I had already actioned a massive transitional change. With our vast experience it was relatively simple logistics. After the weekend of R&R and while Stephanie and I are away, escaping but not retreating, it would be completed under the cover of darkness in under a week. This decision was not made lightly and in fact, recent events confirmed the veracity and need for this to happen. The timing was right. The Core Team was unanimous with our decision and endorsed it. It was ratified immediately. Each and every one of the stakeholders was informed and given a choice, and, like many of our missions, it was not a matter for public disclosure. Secrecy was paramount. We looked upon this as another covert operation.

While we were renovating Stephanie's old apartment in preparation for her Grandma, it seemed the right time. It was a good cover while we were engaging architects and tradesmen for the new site. We had already selected the site and had Hector in the new building for the last couple of months, overseeing the rewiring and hardware set up when he was not on Morelli watch.

It was a newer building and the location had ticked all the boxes. It allowed for expansion of the on-site accommodation to two floors allowing us to provide a large common room with pool tables, gaming consoles and the like, and the potential for a revised upgraded layout of the Control Room, the work centres and more office space. Originally a fitness centre which came into financial difficulties, it was the perfect venue since it included an eight lane Olympic-sized swimming pool so that our resident SEALs could maintain their training, and it would add variety to our gym time and work out sessions. It also featured a spa and sauna which would be most beneficial for us all. Another feature was the 20 metre graduated ramp entry and stairs, rather than steps, into a designated walking lane. Perfect for rehab and hydrotherapy. Bobby was very excited with this arrangement. The SEALs were very much on board. The possibilities of R&R in the pool with water polo and pool volleyball as well as lap swimming was great for morale.

The entire wet area space was well-ventilated and had high reinforced ceilings with a larger gymnasium directly above. Having these facilities on-site already was a bonus. The gun range, to be below the swimming pool for ideal soundproofing, was a straightforward conversion with further extra soundproofing and reinforced walls simple to accommodate. All the facilities including the holding cells in the basement and conference rooms were manageable conversions. The tradesmen were tightly screened and many of them were trusted vets. Security was our business and security began at home, like Rangers, leading the way.

In short, Rangeman was moving, **making moves** in a big way and next week it was all going down! We've been working towards this for almost a year. All on the quiet. _It's our time to make a move, it's our time to make amends._

Just prior to the Morelli apartment incident, we had given Vinnie a month's notice that we were no longer taking his business as Bond Enforcement Agents. We were transitioning into security exclusively, as far as he was concerned. In reality, we'd had enough of Trenton and we had decided on Newark or Princeton as alternative headquarters. We would consider bond enforcement again, but not with someone like Vinnie.

Newark was where I grew up and we knew that gangs existed there like when I was a hot-headed teenager. Perhaps we could establish mixed martial arts training or a Ninja training centre for the youth of Newark. It would be somewhere for these kids to go and burn some of that anger and pent up emotions. We'd need to find a suitable hall or facility off site to make this a possibility. This is one way I can give back to the community and be a potential role model to them with my men as examples, that you can make a difference in your life. You just have to want it badly enough. But I am not going in there to preach. So, we'll wait and see. As it turns out, our new acquisition is providentially in Newark. We are also investigating something for Vets support. We already volunteer at a few centres, but this is something we'd like to explore further.

We'd already had many unpleasant encounters with Vinnie and his greed defied the logic in bonding many of these miscreants and criminals. I had several heated discussions with Vinnie and had put him categorically on notice. He thought I was bluffing but I firmly reminded him it was unconditional. Tank went in to reinforce our 'proposal'. He could deal with Harry the Hammer in his own way. We were not in this business to cover his ass. I don't feel indebted to him. Connie did get me started and from then Rangeman grew. But being linked to Vinnie's rep did not sit well with any of us. And he was getting more insidious and we wanted to renounce any connection with him. We had established a credible reputation in security and with the TPD.

The straw that broke the camel's back was when he gave Stephanie those two thugs who were above her low to medium, bond range. He was out of order issuing those to Stephanie and it could have caused her serious injury, or worse. Regardless that she is my Babe, he was blatantly disregarding the guidelines. That he would put a family member at risk was sickening and Stephanie had in her own way, saved his ass on a regular basis. He didn't deserve her loyalty.

When Stephanie made her momentous decision to upskill her self-defence tactics and training, Tank and I spurred into action. We had already been searching for a new building for well over a year and as luck would have it, this fitness centre was too good an opportunity to let by. The fact that the owners had over extended their finances in trying to lure new clientele from a successful competitor in the same area, forced them into early bankruptcy. Their loss was our gain. The purchase was swift and smooth, and the legalities were straightforward. Our lawyers were extremely thorough. The upper floors, of which there were six in total, had been vacant giving us an unexpected clean slate to facilitate our planned changes. The scope for greater expansion was just too providential.

The feeling was mutual with all the guys at Rangeman. Trenton was unappreciative of our work and for what they have done for their community. Still being regarded as criminals and thugs after almost four years, fed by stupid gossip and Burg idiots who lived in that weird bubble, was getting old. It was high time to move on. Trenton can implode or self-destruct for all we care. It already had that capacity in spades, treating anyone who tried to escape the tendrils of stagnancy and that Stepford mentality with such disdain and brutally crucifying anyone who did. Stephanie was proof of that. Granted, there are good people here, but for the rest of them, we are not their keepers. We are not about to submit or conform to their 'ideals'. We are bad-ass, we are renegades, but we are not traitors. Had it not been for Stephanie entering my life with such undeniable and unexpected panache, we would have escaped Trenton much sooner.

 **o.O.o.**

The weekend at the beach safe house was beneficial to us all. Stephanie and I packed and would be off to our destination of warmer climes the next day. T-shirts, tank tops and shorts, flip flops and her bikinis and perhaps a sun dress was all she needed. And sometimes, she wouldn't need any of them at all! Yes, I am a bad man. We could always buy anything else there if we needed. It was our time to go slow, take one day at a time and just chillax.

She informed her father and her grandmother of our plans and they were both excited to hear that. Edna of course, ever the inquisitive one, just like her granddaughter, asked if we were eloping. That brought a smile to my face.

"No, Grandma. We're just escaping, not retreating, away from all the crap in Trenton. It's been a long time since I have had a real vacation and Ranger too. We're taking a break to somewhere warm and sunny. I don't even know where yet, but I am so excited."

After twenty questions, I gave her clues that we were going overseas. Over an ocean, to somewhere warm and sunny. I had considered European destinations, but they were in the same seasonal zones as we were. Besides, Stephanie always had a yearning for an island destination and not big cities in famous places. The beach had a calming effect on her and somewhere that incorporated sun, sand and ocean was ideal. Tahiti or Fiji and even Australia had also been considered on my list of potentials. But somewhere closer to home seemed more practical and sensible considering recent events. We still had to be relatively accessible. Besides, losing half a day or more in travel time was not desirable. Being far enough away to escape this whole shitstorm that was brewing, but close enough for a return journey within a day or the same day made the choices easier. Fine tuning was the name of the game. I wanted it to be ticking all the points for Stephanie. Location, location, location. That was the name of the game with the criteria of somewhere warm and sunny, with ocean or sea. An island destination, so away from the mainland. And sunsets, beautiful sunsets over the sea.

After considering Hawaii, her last experience was too close to the bone with Morelli's arrival. We both fucked that up, although it left me with many pleasurable memories of our time at the couples' resort. That can be a later destination where we can make all new memories together.

For me, this was a new concept since most of my travel was work related with those government contracts. Allowing myself the option to have a proper vacation was all the better to contemplate with Stephanie for company. That was a no brainer. Tank always had my back and suggested that it would be a great way to reinforce our relationship now that we were able to admit that we were in one, without having to deal with all the crap and bullshit from the Burg. He suggested a total getaway for an extended period and I had to agree with him. And what better way to celebrate the termination of my contracts.

I must confess that I do have a slightly ulterior motive, or two, but the priority is Stephanie, and **us** time.

She was fully on board with the island and closer to home notion to avoid those long-haul flights. Not being fond of flying, that consideration put her at ease.

"Okay. Warmer implies being in the southern hemisphere."

She looked thoughtful and I could almost hear the gears whirling.

"Australia? That's an island," she grinned. I shook my head. "Is it too far away?"

I nodded. Thirty hours of flying was not viable. Maybe that too can be a later destination, like on a bucket list.

"Closer to the equator?" I smiled and raised an eyebrow in encouragement.

She was getting closer. She was all smiles and getting very excited. I smiled which encouraged her even more. Her curiosity was piqued, and it was so enticing watching those blue eyes sparkling with delight.

"Bahamas? Cuba? Jamaica? The Caribbean?"

"Yes." I replied smugly. I was being deliberately obtuse.

"Yes? Which one?"

"You're getting warmer, Babe," as I kissed down her neck to distract her. She wasn't having a bar of that.

"The Bahamas?" I hummed a negative into that sweet spot on her neck.

"Umm … Cuba?"

"Nope. Not recommended for Americans." She was beginning to fold under the onslaught of my deliberate carnal touches and kisses.

"Hmm … Jamaica?"

She was having difficulty concentrating with my mouth on her skin, so I kissed her sensuously. She is so responsive and to think I can have more of this made me even more aroused. So, I upped the ante and took her shirt off slowly and methodically whilst kissing her, working my hands lower to undo her bra and then her jeans. I won that battle of course as she gave in to my lustful ministrations.

It was a wonderful interlude and as we lay there catching our breath, she climbed on top of me and grinned between short breaths.

"You play dirty, Batman. But I like your kind of dirty, just so you know." I gave her the full 200 watts and she punched my arm playfully.

"So, where was I?"

"Getting hot and freaky? Or before that?"

"Okay. I think I said Jamaica. Is that close?"

"Yes."

She groaned playfully in frustration at my vagueness.

"Ranger."

"Babe."

She was cute when she was like this. I rubbed her arms and her back and let my hands drift to her shapely ass, giving the cheeks a delicious squeeze.

"Oh, no you don't! You are insatiable. I know what you are doing. You're trying to distract me."

She was smiling all the while and her mock admonishment made it even more fun and, once again, I increased the pressure and she happily capitulated as I rolled her over and entered her slowly. I don't recall smiling so much when having sex ever before until making love to this remarkable, irresistible woman. I am one very lucky man.

"Okay. It's somewhere in the Caribbean. Sun, sand, sea and blue, blue skies and sunsets. And more." Yes, lots more. Stephanie squealed with delight.

 **o.O.o.**

Finding his funds dwindling and now being desperate for a job, Morelli had very few options open to him. In an ironic twist of fate, having been unceremoniously fired from the TPD and lucking out with other alternatives, his little epiphany had him sweet talking Connie, while eyeing her assets like the jerk he is. Connie was taken with his charms, given that he had the best ass in Trenton. Pfft. Some things never change. That demonstrated how much of a rut Trenton was wedged in.

Vinnie was relieved with Morelli's timing. He had Lula, and that was a liability all on its own, when and if she did work or even succeed in catching her low bond FTAs and taking them in successfully. It was a big if. Vinnie thought with Morelli's experience as a cop, he could handle the higher bonds. Morelli, still being the arrogant cocky asshole, thought he could handle it easily. If Rangeman could do it, he would piss it in. He didn't know about Rangeman giving Vinnie notice and he assumed they would work the higher bonds. Ignorance is bliss they say, and Vinnie was happy to keep him in the dark with this little omission. He may not have the Rangeman finesse, but Vinnie was also a desperate man. His ass was on the line. Being able to collect a pay packet at last, was appealing for Morelli.

Thinking with his other brain, Morelli soon created conflict in the Bonds Office. While he was having it off with Connie, she did not take too kindly when he was found screwing Lula in the back seat of his POS car on Stark Street, supposedly on a stakeout. The TPD gave him a move on notice after alluding and laughing that he was now working the streets. He became the laughing stock of the TPD and their betting club was reinstated with a new fervour and a new target. After his POS was torched, the TPD was having a field day. The Trenton Times had already reported his previous exploits and took great pleasure in showing him in situ with the remains of his burning car. It seems his FTA du jour took exception with his efforts to take him in. Oh, how the tables have turned. The irony was not lost on Eddie Gazarra, Carl, Big Dog and Robin at the TPD.

"It wasn't my fault." That brought the house down and the new editor of the Trenton Times decided it was a most fitting headline. He declared it would be appropriate and interesting to follow Joe's new vocation, with evidence of his adventures and misadventures. Call it a form of vengeance. "Where's Waldo?" and "Another Bust for Joe Blow" which reported both his successes and his disasters. The double entendre was very deliberate.

In the meantime, Morelli was failing miserably in his new profession. He was given some of the lower bonded FTAs and partnering with a reluctant Lula, he soon discovered that ten percent of the bounty was not a huge pay check, especially when it had to be shared. Vinnie was on his case and his temper and rants were getting to Joe. He was not accustomed to being berated, certainly not in front of others. Connie was still pissed with him, especially when Jean-Ellen Burrows walked in to collect her cheque for a higher bonded skip. Joe had not encountered her before, but was instantly attracted to her, her leather outfit, her leather boots, the whole package. He asked if he could talk to her, outside, in the alley, for some advice.

With her mentoring, he was able to bring in his skips gradually with more success. They partnered for a few of his medium bonds and discovered that he needed to be more serious about background searches. His rough house tactics needed some refining. Still Vinnie was on his case. Choosing his own hours was all very well, but he had to be more consistent. Jean Ellen kept Joe at arm's length knowing full well that this hot-headed Italian bounty hunter wannabe had a rep with the ladies. She wasn't going to be a pushover for him no matter how charming he tried to be. And try he did.

Meanwhile, his court date was coming up and Vinnie was pissed that he'd lose another day of his useless ass. His expected, yet infrequent attendance to AA and Anger Management were another pain in the ass Vinnie found interfering with valuable skip chasing time. Vinnie had to resort to bringing in skips himself while Morelli got the hang of the skip chasing game. With Harry the Hammer on his back about business being slow and what he was going to do about it, was enough incentive to get Vinnie out on the streets. He did some of the higher bonds whilst Jean Ellen freelanced between Vincent Plum Bail Bonds Office and Les Sebring. Vinnie was regretting his loss of the Rangeman contract and had Connie actively advertising for new candidates. He thought he could maintain the number of skips as before, but he had seriously underestimated the impact of losing Rangeman with their skill set, consistency and dependability. He was forced to bail fewer bonds and Harry was not pleased with this at all.

In the Burg, Helen Plum found herself in a strange and unfamiliar situation. Valerie had sent her things to the homeless shelter and this was a huge shock to her system. She was shattered, thinking that she could always count on Valerie, the daughter most like herself. She had trained her so well in Burg traditions and expectations. The homeless shelter was not what she expected it to be. It was stark and uninviting, very much like a crowded hostel. There was a lingering smell of sweat and mustiness. All her worldly possessions were in two bags. She lived in a large shared room, with rows and rows of beds, and no privacy. Just a bed, but it was better than living on the streets. Maybe she could get a job at the button factory or the sanitary products plant. She was already thinking of ways to get herself out of this morbid situation. She was still in shock. Maybe her friends would help her. She could iron or cook or clean. There was hope, perhaps.

She had enough coins to catch a bus to Angie Morelli's house and was hoping that she would be able to help her friend. But to her dismay, Angie had problems of her own. She didn't smile when she greeted Helen at the door, but her Burg manners prevailed. She looked rather haggard, but the house was spotless as always. They shared a cup of coffee which she enjoyed very much and gratefully accepted a second with some more delicious Telemann's coffee cake while they made polite small talk, avoiding the enormous elephant in the room. Oh, how she missed these simple pleasures. Ever hopeful, Helen was getting the courage to ask Angie for help when she heard the screech of Bella. She shuddered with a tingle of fear. With a lot of muttering and complaints, Bella came clunking into the kitchen with her walking frame and glared at Helen.

"Who's this? My chair! Up!" Her speech was slurred but there was no mistaking the intent.

Bella was already trying to give her the eye, with uncoordinated actions, and obviously not even recognising her. Quickly she shot out of the chair and Bella slumped in her seat grabbing the rest of the cake and capturing the coffee lest Helen steal it from her clutches. She reeked of mothballs and something else.

"Oh, Mama." Angie despaired with an embarrassed face.

"Come to the bathroom. I need to clean you up."

Bella became aggressive and argumentative ranting wildly in Italian, unintelligible but Italian all the same. Helen decided that it was probably best to leave as Angie had her hands full with her senile old mother. Angie glanced frantically at Helen and eyed the door.

"Another time, perhaps," Helen said with regret and sadness.

Helen walked all the way to the homeless shelter. As she walked past the bakery, the smell of fresh baking was so enticing. She almost cried at the thought of losing her kitchen and being able to make cookies and cake and dinner and … All that she had lost. How did that happen? She was miserable.

You'd think the Burg would have learnt a valuable lesson with the demise of the Morelli women, Helen Plum and Joseph Morelli. Stupid fools. Their old habits prevailed, instilled so deeply in their way of life. The new guard was staking for position and hierarchy and the bickering on the hotlines was rampant. Added to that, Twitter and Facebook were used ruthlessly. Evidence of Angie Morelli looking tired and somewhat dishevelled as she was trying to get her argumentative mother in the car for an appointment, was salaciously shared with malicious delight. Helen walking home and being seen near the homeless shelter, although not so much as exciting as her drunken self, outside her burnt out home, was shared around with many spiteful comments. Angie and Helen were not familiar with either domain but would have been mortified with what it would reveal.

Life went on in Trenton, in the Burg too. The absence of Stephanie Plum was not noticed by many since there was so much else to be talked about, so much more in the newspaper, on social media and the grapevine still worked even on the phones. There was more sharing of photographic evidence and comments were recorded, forever preserved in cyber space. The women, particularly those who were jostling for position, were also busily guarding their backs. Covering your ass was tantamount. Husbands who were notorious for playing around were threatened with all they could muster to avoid being targeted themselves. Even with the men gossip was rife. Men could be just as malicious and less subtle than their womenfolk. Women with 'loose lacky in their undies' were a favourite.

And Rangeman? They didn't even know where these men in black resided or worked from. They were criminals and thugs after all. Their absence was conspicuous to those who knew them and had worked with them. They shook their heads. The TPD already had their hands full and their hands tied, with limited funds to keep the streets safe. A gloomy forecast for Trenton was brewing.

 _Ring-a-round the rosie,  
A pocket full of posies,  
Ashes! Ashes!  
We all fall down._

 **o.O.o.**

 _TBC_

 _One more chapter to go. I have enjoyed this journey so much. My Muse is firing on all cylinders and it feels invigorating._

 _Thank you to Ms Margaret for her constant wonderful support and encouragement and bouncing ideas around together._

 _Thank you for the reviews, the favourites and alerts and the guest comments. I cannot respond to those but know that I appreciate them all. I especially appreciate the reviews to whom I can respond and will, soon._

 _While writing this chapter, I was listening to_ _ **X Ambassadors, Renegades**_ _. Love that song and great to keep the Muse happy while writing. I then realised how apt the lyrics were to Stephanie and Ranger, and Rangeman. In italics I have indicated the lines I chose from that song._

BTW: _'_ _loose lacky in their undies'_ is an Australian expression for … loose elastic in their underwear. ; )


	15. In the Wind

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 15**

 **In the Wind**

 _This is the_ _ **not**_ _the final chapter now. Sorry. Ranger and Stephanie wanted their own time without the shitstorm. The final chapter is almost complete and will be posted early next week. Yes, I'm going to make you wait, a teasing little cliffie._

 _Making no money as I am just borrowing Janet's characters for a bit of fun and games._

 **o.O.o.**

 **In the Wind**

The absence of Stephanie Plum was not noticed by many since everyone was so obsessed with the new targets hitting the news and the Burg was busy … busy with the disempowerment and demise of the Queen Bees and Morelli's very public dismissal and some of his bumbling efforts in his new vocation after that massive exposé.

The Burg was enthralled. The Burg was rocked. Little did they know that their world was about to get a shake down of its own and they wouldn't see it coming. Blindsided they will be.

But there was someone who was getting really pissed off. Morelli thought he saw her passing by in Big Blue with that crazy grandmother of hers. Initially he thought he must be mistaken but when he passed by the funeral parlour later that day, he saw Big Blue again, parked close by. Besides, how many powder blue 1953 Buick Roadmasters are there in Trenton? A few days later he saw them again leaving the Kiss and Curl. He was not quick enough the turn and follow in his latest POS clunker. He couldn't afford to spend huge dollars on a decent car. Besides, it was a good cover, not an obvious choice for a bounty hunter, or so he tried to convince himself.

It seems he had severely underestimated what bounty hunting entailed. He assumed Stephanie was just incompetent and useless making him look bad and bringing embarrassment to him and her family. That over-used line of judgment was getting old and so cliché. It annoyed the hell out of him that he was now on the receiving end of those very same judgments and taunts, and he did not like it one bit. Vinnie was at him every day. He'd been in the police force for God's sake. He had over a decade of experience under his belt. What did she have? No longer being a cop seemed to have disempowered him and since they knew who he was and his recent history, his skips mocked him with renewed bravado since he could no longer hide behind his badge. Word got around and they knew how to press his buttons. His temper flared, and he had to really work at keeping his cool like using his cop face. He was still a hot-headed egotist. It's like all those skills seemed to melt away. Jeanne-Ellen suggested he work harder on his anger management and channel it into the capture and not to let them best him with childish taunts.

"Man up, Morelli. Grow your balls back. You have to be bad-ass. If you don't change your attitude, you'll never last in this business." Jeanne-Ellen never did mince words.

Further exacerbating his capture rate was that he was not a true team player. He wasn't in the TPD either as he preferred to work alone and be autonomous or head a team if a vice surveillance warranted it. He had no underlings and Lula didn't count. Let's not go there. Not having back up was another issue hindering his progress. He couldn't delegate either. Ironically, Stephanie had helped him so many times with information and her uncanny local knowledge. He lacked her tenacity and did not have that innate curiosity that made her relentless in finding her skips. She had solved many of his cases but of course, he'd taken the credit for them.

He needed to use the computer more for in depth research, but he hated using the one at the Bonds Office. The atmosphere was not very receptive after his Lula and Connie encounters and Vinnie took every opportunity to nag him relentlessly. Putting as much distance as he could between himself and Vinnie was a high priority. The library had a bank of computers and he used them frequently. How he missed having his own office with his own desk and a door he could shut out all the shit outside it. One of the young librarians politely suggested using the newspaper archives … since Stephanie found them so useful and informative. He thanked her and tried to smile but it came out more as a grimace. Bloody Stephanie again. It's like they are all rubbing his nose in it! It's all her bloody fault!

As he emerged from the library, he saw Big Blue again. He watched it go by and it definitely was Stephanie at the wheel as she turned that behemoth around the corner. There was no mistaking that curly ponytail threaded through her cap. Edna waved at him, a huge smile on her wrinkled old face. Damned old bitch.

He cruised past her apartment which seemed to be having renovations. He recognised the shiny black SUVs so he moved on. It rankled him that he saw her so many times. He hadn't seen her for weeks and but not at the Bond's Office. When he cruised by the Tasty Pastry he saw her staring through the front window. There was no mistaking those long legs, the jeans and her curly hair. He double parked his car and leapt out to talk to her.

"Cupcake!" He grabbed her shoulder roughly and yanked her wrist to stop her running away.

"What do you think you're doing? Making my life a misery every time?" She winced, and it was only then he realised she was not his Cupcake. Perhaps it was the very large inked man who came at him that reinforced that shock.

"Oh shit!"

"Yo, Bro! Are you fucking kidding me?"

In two swift moves Morelli once again found himself on the receiving end of a very large Maori fist. His shoulder ached again, and he was sure to get a shiner from that first punch.

"Touch my girl again, and you will regret it, Bro. Now apologise to the lady!"

Morelli stood up, humiliated but before he could utter a word of remorse he was doubled over in agony as she kicked him firmly in the boys. Just like Stephanie, lethal. Vomiting and sweating profusely, he was in extreme distress. Perhaps her pointy-toed stilettos might have had something to do with that. He struggled up onto his knees but keeled over. Too soon. Of course, someone was nearby taking pictures. He didn't have the strength to tell them to piss off.

The very next day he saw her dash into the 711, probably for some Tasty Cakes, he assumed. He stopped her at the cashier.

"Cupcake." He grabbed her arm firmly. "We're gonna have a talk outside and -"

"What the fuck, man?!"

Morelli look stunned and quickly released his grip. He was shoved hard against the wall, bruising that shoulder again. It was not Stephanie Plum at all. The angry blue eyes glared at him and then he recognised the distinctive black uniform. Oh, fuck. Rangeman. He was dumbfounded. From behind he looked like Stephanie. Again, those bastards with their wretched cameras. He picked himself up and ran for door with laughter in his wake. But before he could leave the store, he bumped into a solid wall of black. "Oh great. Another thug from Rangeman," he thought. Or did he mutter that aloud?

"What's the rush, **Joe Blow**?"

It was a smiling Lester Santos. Miguel came out with his purchases and watched the exchange curiously. He took his cap off, deliberately, and shook his curly brown hair out before tying it back neatly and threading his ponytail through the back of the black cap, adjusting it firmly on his head.

"Fuck you, Santos!"

He made the same mistake two days later when he saw Stephanie standing beside a burning wreck. Without asking how she was, as usual, he grabbed her and started shaking her, red-eyed rage taking over, going on his usual rant, taking out his frustrations on this young brunette. He was suddenly grabbed from behind and handcuffed roughly. He struggled hard but had his feet kicked out from under him looking up into angry green eyes. Fuck! Lester Santos, again.

"Are you okay, Ma'am?" A pony-tailed man in black asked her gently, trying not to frighten her even more. He looked familiar.

"Ma'am?" Morelli was confused. Then he looked up and realised his mistake. "Fuck." He could have sworn she was Stephanie.

"Well. If it isn't **Joe Blow**. Not looking too good Morelli. Nice shiner you got there. Having fun yet?"

"Fuck you, Santos!"

Tank was on the phone to the TPD. The young woman wanted to press charges, encouraged by Tank. She was visibly shaken.

"You can't handcuff me! I know my rights! Now get these off me!"

Tank used his imposing height and massive size on him as he bore down into his personal space.

"Citizen's arrest, _Mister_ Morelli."

"My word against yours," Morelli sneered.

"You have witnesses. Take a look at your fan club, Morelli. It sucks to be you. Asshole."

Two officers arrived and took the young lady's statement and then talked to the bystanders who had witnessed the scene. They'd been there, already videoing the car wreck burning when Morelli arrived, and they had recorded the entire exchange.

Morelli was arrested for assaulting the young lady. The two officers were unknown to him and he sat in the back of their car quietly fuming. He watched as the EMTs checked her over as they drove away from the scene. Shaking his head, he was quite shocked. She looked so much like Stephanie. He really thought it was her.

The Trenton Times had several articles this week, with photos, of Morelli in compromising circumstances again. There were three with brunettes. One at the 711 but it only showed Morelli grabbing 'her' arm. The girlfriend of the Maori bouncer, Rangi, from the bar, gave her account which had a sequence of stills showing her encounter with Morelli, including the kick to his precious boys and his subsequent collapse. The arrest was there too, and it was surreptitiously inferred that the burning car might have been his doing. The Trenton Times was having a bonanza.

 **o.O.o.**

Helen Plum visited Angie every day now. There was just nowhere to stay at the homeless shelter. Young mothers with their children had the courtyard area with the playground area, and the park nearby had benches but what was she to do there? She felt too exposed and conspicuous.

Angie was more welcoming on her next visit. Thankfully Bella was asleep, since she slept a lot lately. At other times she made demands from her bedroom ringing that goddamned bell of hers. Being incontinent, Bella was in adult pull-up diapers, but the bed still needed changing practically every day. Angie barely had a moment's peace. Shaking her head in despair, Helen took the soiled bed linen from her hands and said, "I'll take care of these. You go clean her up." Helen went to the laundry, grimacing at the stench. Nothing else better to do and it was better that she had something constructive to do to pass the time away. After hosing off the soiled bed linen and putting them in the trough to soak with bleach and disinfectant, she went to Bella's bedroom and remade the bed with fresh linen, putting a clean dry liner underneath. She then opened the windows to ventilate the room.

While Angie was bathing her decrepit and crotchety old mother, Helen went into the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee. She could hear Bella screaming and cursing at her daughter. Poor Angie. She realised how fortunate she was with her own mother. Well, she blew that. That boat had sailed already.

A new agreement took place. Angie had to concede that looking after her ailing mother was more than she could handle alone. Bella sat in front of the TV muttering jumbled curses, rocking herself to sleep.

Angie welcomed the assistance and the coffee. Helen had put the soaked linen into the washing machine and had Bella's bed clothes soaking in a bucket while Angie gathered her wits.

"Would you consider staying, Helen. I really could use the help. I can't afford to put her into care and her dementia after that stroke has really been hell on wheels. I'm worn out every day. I barely get a chance to sit. I have a spare room, away from Bella's room. It's upstairs."

Helen couldn't believe her ears and her eyes went misty as she agreed. She was speechless and they both cried at their own despair as they hugged each other. Anything would be better than the homeless shelter and here she would have her own room. And privacy. She sent a silent prayer to the blessed Mother Mary.

"Thank you, my dear friend."

"Well. That's a great reason to celebrate. Come. I have a nice bottle of red, a cheese platter with some olives, salami, pastrami and pepperoni and some nice Italian crackers. Let's sit on the porch in the sun and rejoice."

Giving Bella her medication with a sedative in her vegetable puree, to mollify her fluctuating moods, she breathed a huge sigh of relief mixed with despair when she had fed Bella. Angie left her with a bowl with some savoiardi sponge fingers to suck on. The deposed former Queens of the Burg sat outside, bushed. They clinked their glasses together with a toast to new beginnings and survival, and with each refill. After Angie opened the second bottle, their voices became louder than usual, unaware of the quiet clicking of a camera or two. More fodder for the Trenton Times. With every new refill there was another loud toast amid drunken giggles, to friendship and their own misery and titbits of gossip that they could barely scrape up. Too much information.

 **o.O.o.**

Stephanie was beside herself with excitement, clutching my hand tightly and grinning broadly when the captain made the announcement for our ETA. After less than four hours of flying from Newark, we were coming in to land.

 **o.O.o.**

 _ **TBC**_

 _Oh, where oh where are they? Somewhere warm and sunny._

 _This chapter took on a life of its own and when it went over 5,000 words, I decided to make a split. Stephanie and Ranger were relieved with my decision so they can enjoy some alone time. ; )_

 _Only one more to go now._


	16. Getaway

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 16**

 **Getaway**

 _And here it is, the final chapter_ _ **but one**_ _! LOL Yes, still one more to go and it only needs tweaking._

 _I was feeling sad to let this go but it seems that Ranger isn't done yet. It's all his fault._

 _Warning for a bit of smut._

 _All the main characters belong to Janet Evanovich. I have just borrowed them to play._

 **o.O.o.**

 **Ranger's POV**

From above we admired the glorious tropical sight of the US Virgin Islands surrounded by the sparkling waters of the Caribbean Sea and the darker depths of the Atlantic Ocean. Looking out of the window I pointed out the three main islands of St Croix, St Thomas and St John and another dozen smaller ones dotted around them. Stephanie was in awe as she squeezed my hand excitedly. We could see the beautiful coves and bays lined with palm trees and white sandy beaches and lush green hillsides. The sun was bright and made the water sparkle and glisten. There was still some residual damage evident from Hurricanes Maria and Irma over a year ago, with blue tarpaulins on some rooftops and a lot of green that had been stripped off the hillsides on the eastern side especially. But it still had that tropical paradise look which made Stephanie smile brilliantly. I couldn't help but smile back at her.

We landed on the island of St Croix. The sun was shining, the sky was the bluest blue and it was a pleasant 88 degrees.

"Oh, Ranger. I feel like I'm thawing out. This is wonderful already. The clean air, the blue, blue sky and the palm trees." And she sighed wistfully with a smile, squeezing me hard with a hug.

A quick ferry ride brought us to the island of St Thomas and very soon we were entering the luxury resort. We were greeted by a smiling bellman with a welcoming rum punch.

Our room had a wide balcony overlooking the magnificent bay with the palm trees, the resort, the beautiful beachside pool and the ocean beyond with many islands creating a picture postcard perfect view. Stephanie breathed in the sea air and took in the one-hundred-and-eighty degree view. The island of St John was across the bay.

"Wow. This is fabulous, Ranger. Such a breathtaking sight. I wasn't expecting this," and she breathed in the fresh clean ocean air.

"Carlos, Babe. Please call me Carlos," and I planted a slow, deep kiss onto those lovely lips. She hummed and practically melted into my arms. I love how I can have that effect on her.

"Besides, this is not the only place where we will be staying. I thought for our arrival you deserved some of this luxury. You've worked hard and frankly, we both could use some pampering. Tomorrow we have a spa booked after breakfast and then we can go on one of those catamarans you see out there and tour the Caribbean waters heading to Buck Island where we can do some snorkelling."

"Oh, that will be so awesome. I can't wait. And look at the colour of the sea … such a beautiful fresh clean turquoise. I love it here already." She pondered for a moment.

"Does that mean we are camping next?" she asked warily.

I laughed. "It might be closer to 'glamping' but it is better than that. You'll see." She was visibly relieved.

On one of the side tables was a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket, chilled champagne glasses and a dish with chocolate dipped strawberries. We had a toast to relaxation, peace and tranquillity. Beautiful flowers caught Stephanie's eyes and she inhaled the fragrance of the frangipanis of many different colours from white to peachy, pink and lemon and a deeper golden yellow. The red was the most striking. I put a yellow one and a red one behind her left ear and smiled at her knowingly. I was being a bit smug.

"What is it they say about flowers behind the ear? The right side means something different to the left one, doesn't it?" She asked curiously.

"If you wear a flower behind your left ear, Babe, it means you are married, taken, have a significant other, or maybe you just don't want anyone bothering you. If you wear a flower behind your right ear, it means you are single, available, and approachable."

I took that moment to kiss her again holding her face gently in both hands. I smiled down at the dreamy expression she returned with a sigh.

"You put it behind my left ear."

"Yup." She smiled.

"Right. I don't want anyone to bother me." She grinned mischievously as she backed up a bit. She paused. "Also, we're not married … so I'm taken?"

"Totally. You're mine." I might have growled a bit as I stepped towards her reducing the space between us once again.

"Okay."

"Okay? That's what you've got to say?"

"Yup."

"Good to know." I shook my head knowing she was playing me at my mono-syllabic game, well, a game to her, when she dares.

We sat on the balcony enjoying the views, our champagne and the delicious strawberries, which we fed to each other. Stephanie was enjoying hers very much and I was entranced by her lips. I licked the chocolate from the corner of her moaning mouth which turned into a hot, searing kiss.

"Welcome to the Virgin Islands, Babe."

"Uh oh. I hate to tell you this, but neither of us is a virgin."

"C'mere." I pulled her to me by her t-shirt and kissed her deeply.

"Man, you sure can kiss. They are so hot, and you get my hormones all revved up just with your kisses. Don't ever change your MO." She giggled.

Taking her glass from her hand, I threw her over my shoulder to christen the king size bed and celebrate our arrival in style.

We changed into our shorts, tank tops and flip flops, and I placed a new flower behind her left ear kissing her ear and giving her a wink. Steph had a sexy string bikini underneath her summery outfit and we went out to explore the beautiful lush gardens of the resort, holding hands. Stephanie's eyes took it all in: the verdant foliage and the dappled shade sprinkled with a variety of colourful hibiscus flowers; the taller large-leafed frangipanis and the bright pinks, corals, reds and even white of the bougainvillea. It was a striking contrast with the blue sky which had a few large fluffy white clouds floating across it. Perfect getaway.

At the Grotto we indulged in a delicious poolside lunch of Caesar salad, Caribbean spiced crab cakes with a beer for me and a passionfruit margarita for my Babe. Then we strolled down to the beach carrying our flip flops. She wriggled her toes in the white sand and sighed again. Each time she saw something she liked she would sigh, happy sighs. We strolled along the water's edge, with the little waves gently lapping the shore, walking from one end of the beach to the other where the rocks were and back to the main resort.

Sitting under one of the blue beach umbrellas on white chaise longue deck chairs and just enjoying the view, we sat in companionable silence luxuriating in the peaceful ambience. We ordered a cocktail, mojitos for both of us. It really felt worth it removing ourselves from that shitstorm brewing back in Trenton. The attendant also brought some towels, two sets, one for the chairs and one for drying off after a swim. Tank was so right. I had informed him of our arrival at the resort. We'll see him in two weeks, by then the big move should be complete and settled. I made sure we had put on sun screen (and nearly didn't make it down for lunch), and we each had a hat and sunglasses. I didn't want her regretting too much sun and getting burnt so early into our vacation. The sun is a lot more intense here than it is in Point Pleasant.

I stood up and removed my shirt and held my hand out to her. Even though she was wearing sunglasses, I could tell she was taking me in a full body scan. She smiled, knowing she was caught.

"What? Have you seen the view from my perspective? It is very delectable, Carlos. And I think this is the first time that you are not in black. It suits you. But I do like you in black, Batman," she purred. "You go ahead. I'll just watch." And she licked her lips lecherously making me laugh.

I jogged down to the water and ran into the low surf with a running dive. Yes. So nice. So refreshing. I swam up and down for a while. When I looked at our spot she looked like she had drifted off to sleep as she lay face down. I walked out of the water and she had rolled over, resting on her elbows watching me intently.

"My God, Carlos. You are so sexy coming out of the water like that, your hair dripping and your buff body glistening with the water. I … I … could just lick that water off and -"

Before she could disclose too many lusty thoughts I kissed her softly and then again, more deeply and passionately. She responded and clutched onto me. I lifted her gently, still kissing her and before she realised my intentions, I was racing down to the water as she squealed in surprise, laughing as we fell into the water. We just enjoyed the warm tropical water, cuddling and kissing and a bit of swimming before we dried ourselves off, and went back to our room to shower and change.

At the resort dock we boarded the catamaran with only a few people on board. Stephanie glowed and leaned back to my front watching the crystal clear water change from aqua to turquoise as the catamaran sliced smoothly through the water. It was a pleasant twenty-minute ride to Buck Island.

Snorkelling from the back of the boat proved to be exhilarating.

"Do I really have to spit in my mask?" she asked, looking both perplexed and disgusted but also a bit suspicious. I reassured her it was to avoid it fogging up on her once she was under the water. Being Stephanie's first snorkelling experience, she was a little nervous initially, so I held her hand.

She quickly mastered the snorkel and mask and used her fins more confidently with each plunge giving me the universal signal of the thumbs up. Every time she surfaced she beamed and exclaimed delightedly at what she saw. But once she saw the colourful corals and the many schools of small multi-coloured fish she was fine going solo but staying close by. As her breathing relaxed she was able to hold her breath for longer. She marvelled at the turtle swimming by and was stunned by the sight of a few stingrays cruising gracefully along the seabed just as if they were flying. Seeing the many starfish and sea urchins, she was even more excited when she recognised the colourful sea anemones and the clown fish. She pointed insistently and made a heart shape with her fingers.

As she surfaced, she spluttered, "I saw Nemo!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Only you, Babe."

I smiled indulgently, my little mermaid, looking just as desirable underwater with her beautiful hair swirling with each movement of the water as she swam close to the reef and peeked all around in awe and wonder.

"Wow. That was so amazing! I have seen these things on the Discovery channel but seeing it for real is so much better. I can't believe how beautiful it is down there. This is the best, Carlos." She sighed again.

"We'll have so many other wonderful experiences before we leave, Babe. I think we can balance exploring the islands and what they have to offer and just some slow simple relaxation. There's no rush, no agenda or schedule. We'll just take one day at a time, Babe. And, if you want to spend more time snorkelling, we can easily do just that."

Back at the resort, another shower time was a bit longer as she joined me, and we made love under the spray. It was sweet and slow. I can't get enough of her. My hunger for her is insatiable. I know I have been a bit greedy, but I had better take it easy on her to allow some recovery time. We had a much needed rest. Somehow, we had missed the first sunset, but there were many more to come.

A candlelit dinner on The Terrace, under strands of many tiny fairy lights, was a fitting end to a long day as we took in the spectacular views from the al fresco restaurant. We ordered lobster toast for a starter and then succulent Wild Caught Gulf Shrimp with rice and a delicious spinach salad. The twinkling lights across the bay from St John, and to the other islands gave it a magical feel. The air was still, not even a breeze and the stars were bright twinkling above. It was still warm but comfortable. I held her hand, rubbing my thumb and index finger over her hands and I found myself massaging her ring finger. I smiled. Slowly she glanced up at me.

"You look stunning, Babe. You look rested and radiant."

She blushed and nodded in agreement. I kissed the palm of her hand and then the inside of her wrist.

Gently taking her hand, we danced to the smooth Jazz sounds, swaying to the easy bluesy rhythm. Her captivating blue eyes, which sparkled with the many tiny lights, never left my face.

"So beautiful. I want to take you upstairs and make slow and sensuous love to you. I love you, Stephanie."

To my surprise, she stopped right there on the dance floor, and pulled me by the hand and smiled.

"Te amo, Carlos. Let's go then. I cannot think of anything better right now that would please me more."

And that's just what we did. I think I might have been the one to sigh this time. I watched her fall asleep, listening to the gentle waves outside and the calming effect of her breathing which always helped to centre me. I was the luckiest man in the world. That was my last lucid thought for the night.

We woke up early, watching the sunrise from our balcony with a coffee in hand. The sky was toned in hues of pinks and gold and orange reflecting onto the calm waters of the bay. We jogged down to the beach and jogged towards the rising sun and back again, followed by a refreshing morning swim.

Breakfast on The Terrace was a buffet selection with delicious tropical fruits and juices and the usual breakfast fare. I explained something about each fruit as she read the labelled tags. Stephanie chose waffles with strawberries and cream and maple syrup. She grinned happily at me knowing what I was thinking. Choosing a small selection of tropical fruit, especially mango and pineapple, she also chose fried plantains as a new one. The unfamiliar Caribbean varieties she considered trying but decided to save them for tomorrow or another day.

"I want to taste something new every day."

"I can make sure of that, Babe."

As we walked to the beach Steph spotted the hammocks and squealed in delight. After a few tries, she finally managed to stay in her hammock and swung side to side next to me, coming together like magnets. She was smiling and once again released those happy sighs looking up at the palm trees overhead. She dozed for a while and I chose that time to take a run up the beach and have a swim. I had kept her very busy yesterday and considering all the drama which we left behind, I knew she needed extra recovery time. I took some photos of our peaceful idyllic setting and especially of Stephanie luxuriating in her hammock.

The spa and especially the massage were perfect and invigorating with ska music playing softly in the background. The masseuse was skilful and had good strong hands. She was very professional and obviously experienced. Stephanie moaned more and more as she was enjoying the moment.

"Babe? You're making it … er … difficult." She blushed.

We thanked the masseuses and took their advice to drink plenty of water. Once Stephanie recovered she stood on jelly legs and giggled. I took her hand and strolled to one of the farther cabanas with not quite sheer white curtains. I lifted her onto the large bed and proceeded to close the curtains.

"You've been a naughty girl, Stephanie."

Initially, she looked a bit stunned but then she recalled her moans. She tried to look remorseful but couldn't pull it off and snorted trying to muffle her laughter.

"Oops. Sorry, not!" I pounced on her and she squealed.

"Shh. I am going to make you pay for that, but you have to be quiet, well, as quiet as you possibly can. If you make too much sound, I will stop. Understand?"

She nodded while biting her lip.

I worked my way from her toes, massaging her feet, her calves and her thighs. With my teeth, I undid her string bikini bottoms and slowly released her breasts from around her bikini top. Skipping my nirvana, she groaned, lifting her hips up. I pressed them down firmly as I worked on her mound, teasing her with my chin and tongue kissing her navel. Ravishing her breasts gave her cause to make more sound, so I stopped. With a frustrated growl she clutched the cover of the mattress, fisting one hand in her mouth, so I proceeded down to the promised land, lavishing her with my fingers and my tongue. She really tried hard to control herself, but I had to kiss her, swallowing her moans as I entered her warm and impatient heat. We both came to a quick climax and lay there breathless and sated, listening to the gentle waves rolling in and out. There's something about making love in an almost public place that seems to make it a more exciting and electrifying experience. I dressed her back into her bikini, her blue sarong and the loose white blouse, so she was decent again and then I donned my shorts.

I opened the front curtains and the sides to enjoy the gentle breeze. Stephanie rolled towards me and fell asleep. Caressing her body while she slept was soothing to my soul and I just soaked up the ambience of this romantic and peaceful place. I cannot recall ever having a vacation as wonderful as this in my adult life. I may have dozed for a bit as well.

We ordered lunch to have in the cabana: spicy chicken and mango wraps and bottled water, while sitting at the table, almost mesmerised as we watched the little waves roll in and out while we waited. It was an amazing view. The sun shone on the water making it sparkle like gems. It reminded me of opals with the various blues. The wraps were delicious.

In the afternoon we went horseback riding along the beach and through the forest along an established bridle path to the next bay. The path then meandered upwards until we reached the top of the hillside. We dismounted allowing the horses to rest in the shade. I pulled her hand and we climbed onto the rocky outcrop above and the 360-degree view was spectacular. We could see the islands, near and far, the resort way down below, tiny fishing boats in the water and the larger yachts cruising the bay. Other resorts and hotels were visible and the villages nearby and of course the larger township. Stephanie pointed out the catamaran and recognised Buck Island. An ocean liner on the horizon was making its way to the harbour in St Thomas and we could see planes land and take off from St Croix. We drank our water and just enjoyed this special spot. The slower ride back was along a different bridle path, easier for a horse to descend, giving us more opportunities for scenic views from signed spots highlighting the outlook's features. The horses knew their way home and after giving them an apple reward we made our way back to the resort.

We swam in the pool and relaxed on the loungers under the colourful pool umbrellas in various shades of blue reflecting the colours of the Caribbean waters. I made sure that Stephanie rolled over every 15 minutes and then I just moved the umbrella into position to keep us in the shade. Rationing her sun exposure and reapplying sunscreen was very important. Of course, I enjoyed that last part.

The resort had a shuttle bus that drove us into the town centre. We'd showered and changed, with Stephanie wearing a white halter top over a little flouncy summer skirt showing off her toned and now quite tanned long legs. Another flower behind left her assured her truth in advertising: she was mine. I couldn't help but grin smugly and she was mock offended, giving me a thump on the arm but I nibbled her ear, whispering, "Mine." She laughed.

"Maybe I should put a flower behind your ear to say you are mine. You're taken. I've seen those women eyeing you already and I am feeling a bit possessive, Carlos."

To the rhythmic sounds of calypso music and marimba bands, we strolled along the market place. The atmosphere was very laid back as we walked around holding hands. There were dancers in traditional colourful dress showing Caribbean dances. The wonderful beckoning aromas of the food trucks were calling to Stephanie just as her stomach growled. We both laughed.

"Some things never change."

After checking the range of cuisines, we decided to have the highly recommended beef patties which looked very much like empanadas and were so tasty. We sat at the bar watching the sunset while sipping on my beer and Stephanie had a blood orange margarita with guava nectar which clearly met her approval.

The sunset was worth the wait, made even more spectacular because of the lingering dust and ash from a smouldering volcanic eruption - a large ash cloud, from one of the other Caribbean islands in the Lesser Antilles further south. For the next taste test, we had some plantain fritters and Johnny Cakes, delicious Caribbean style. Stephanie enjoyed them in her usual manner. I was thankful that the flower held in place as many men approached until they saw her left-eared flower. Or perhaps it was my very assertive glare if they dared. Mentally I was ripping their arms off to beat them with. Whatever. Stephanie noticed and laughed, recognising my Neanderthal thoughts in chasing them off. My arm might have encircled her more possessively. We joined in the dancing as the party atmosphere ramped up before catching the shuttle back to the resort.

Another great end to a wonderful day in USVI paradise. But to make it even more memorable we enjoyed a slow moonlit walk along the white sandy beach before settling in for the night.

Next morning after our run and swim and breakfast I had a special surprise for Stephanie, something she is really going to love and close to her heart. The shuttle dropped us off at our destination and as Stephanie stepped off the bus she saw the sign advertising this adventure. The huge smile that lit up her face was all the approval I needed. All I told her was that we were going on an adventure.

 **o.O.o.**

 _TBC_

 _What is this adventure that Ranger knew would appeal to Stephanie?_

 _What a wonderful Getaway._

 _I am an experienced diver, both scuba (though not lately) and just snorkelling, being blessed with a coral reef coast rich with sea life just like Stephanie experienced. We have an island off our coast, from where the lighthouse comes (on my avatar) with crystal clear waters just like this Caribbean islands' adventure. I have not been to the Caribbean but have been fascinated. My Aunt lived in Curacao for many years and I always loved to explore that area in my geographical adventures (well before the Internet)._

 _Chapter 17 soon. Thank you for your reviews, especially JB to whom I cannot respond._


	17. Karma

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 17**

 **Karma**

 _All the characters you recognise, belong to Janet. Not making any money and just taking them out to play. Miguel is mine alone. All the mistakes are mine._

 _And, no, this is_ _ **not**_ _the final chapter. I know. I tried. Someone wanted to play some more, before the finale._

 **o.O.o.**

Everybody knows that giving a glass of wine to an alcoholic is more than just folly, it can have serious consequences. Being an alcoholic is an addiction. Helen Plum was not even a recovering alcoholic. Going against strong advice from AA and contradicting all her own pledges for focus, self-help and abstinence Helen Plum ignored her own conscience and the conditions of her release. There is no such thing as moderation in an alcoholic. Once again in denial, thinking one or two glasses wouldn't hurt, Helen gladly drank the two bottles of red with Angie Morelli on their front porch. She welcomed the buzz she felt which she had missed so much.

Finding an empty bottle in the trash was her first hint, but Angie chose to ignore it. But as the week went on Helen was becoming less subtle about her drinking. When Angie needed wine for a recipe she found an empty shelf in her pantry. That did set her curiosity pinging. Checking her bottom shelf for her cooking reserves of red wine and white, she discovered empty spaces. She searched the trash and sure enough, there they were. Come to think of it, she reflected on Helen's tardiness lately and how she looked more slovenly, and her anxiety levels, especially first thing in the morning. She had put it down to tiredness and interrupted sleep due to her mother's weird awakenings. A change in medication after consulting the doctor soon resolved that issue. But Helen still looked the same. By midmorning, while she was bathing Bella, Helen seemed to be perkier.

Catching Helen red-handed with her last bottle of wine, which she had hidden in a new spot, Angie put her on notice.

"I have welcomed you into my home and you've been an enormous help with Bella. I have appreciated that so much and it has kept me sane. Having your friendship means a lot to me as we both feel the pain from being ostracised by the Burg. But, Helen, speaking as your friend, you cannot remain here if you continue to drink."

Helen tried to interrupt and deny her remark, but Angie stamped her foot giving her a severe Italian glare of which Bella of old would have been proud.

"Don't kid yourself, Helen Plum! Look at you. Go to the mirror and tell me you like what you see. You're a lush. You have consumed all the wine in my house including the ones I use for cooking. And shouldn't you be going to Alcoholics Anonymous as part of the conditions of your release or parole or whatever it's called?"

Helen hung her head in shame trying desperately for a justifiable excuse but came up empty.

"If you smoked or did drugs, heaven forbid, I'd say the same thing to you, Helen. No wine in my house, or any other alcohol, for you. It stops now. If you wish to stay here, that's the rule. If I have to look after my mother alone, so be it, and you can go back to the women's shelter. Your choice. Now go clean yourself up or pack your bags."

To say Helen was shocked that her friend would give her such an ultimatum was an understatement. Frank had never spoken to her like that, ever. But Angie did. She considered her bleak options. A shiver ran through her body at the thought of going back to the women's shelter. At the same time, she felt those familiar unsettling tremors, the pangs of anxiety. The headaches had returned with the nausea. Alcohol withdrawal was a very unpleasant experience and she had found solace in Angie's minimal supply. She had also found solace in Angie for her company, support and friendship. She cradled her head in her hands, fretting at the thought of the loneliness and despair she had felt at the women's shelter.

 **o.O.o.**

Somehow, a mysterious benefactor, had covered bail for Joseph Morelli. It seems, he does have some allies at the TPD, or somewhere. Vinnie reamed him a new one because of the lost time in getting his skips.

"Get your fucking act together Morelli! If Stephanie could handle it, why the fuck can't you? Keep you dick in your pants and sort your shit out. I'm being generous here, a week, or you are out on your hairy Italian ass. Now take these skips. I'm not in this business to lose money because of a useless prick like you. Just get out there and bring them in. Pronto. Like yesterday. I don't care how you do it."

Belligerently, Morelli stalked out of Vinnie's office and out the door ignoring Connie and Lula. He was pissed off. How dare he compare him to Stephanie. Bloody Stephanie again. Fuck!

Using his skills as a cop and knowing that the rules and the limitations of the law did not restrict his ability or the manner in which he could nab his skips, Morelli did lift his game. Snapping out of his 'it's-all-Stephanie's-fault' funk and his denial and blameless pity party, he channelled his anger into catching these three FTAs. He felt a sense of power being able to flaunt the law with such freedom and no guilt. He became more aggressive and it was noted at the TPD that each of his skips had been worked over as he brought them in. He didn't give a shit.

Vinnie was pleased to have Harry off his back when those skips were back in the system. He had been cutting it too fine with the timeline. He approved of Morelli's new drive but still kept him to account. He was not going to stop riding his ass just yet. After all, it was just a day's work and he'd have to prove himself.

Vinnie's implied remark suggesting Stephanie was more competent made Morelli furious. He was still resentful the next day and after the last two skips had been dragged in, he cruised past the brownstone building which he knew so well. To his surprise there were no shiny black SUVs and Big Blue was in the parking lot. Problem solved. Taking his opportunity, he went into the foyer, not aware of the new security system now in place. The elevator door opened, and Mrs Bestler was waiting inside.

"Where to hustler? I hope you've come to play nice."

Morelli wanted to scowl at her but used his Italian charm and smiled. She just shook her head, pressed the button and ignored his false charm while muttering German snide asides.

By this time the elevator had stopped on Stephanie's level.

"Renovations, new paint and new furnishings."

Morelli looked at her, puzzled at the odd remarks but shrugged his shoulders. This strange crazy old lady reminded him of someone else and he shuddered at the thought.

He approached her door, a new door. "Interesting," he thought. He liked a challenge. Using his new lock picking kit, he made quick work of the locks, feeling pretty smug with himself as they opened successfully. There in the kitchen, a new kitchen, he saw her leaning against the counter with her back to him, her crazy curls loose and free from her ponytail.

He reached her shoulder, yanking to turn her around. He was looking forward to seeing her surprise and he wasn't in the mood for being friendly this time. She'd been causing him a lot of pain and misery.

"Cupcake," he growled.

He was momentarily distracted just as he recognised Edna peeking around the corner with a sinister grin on her face and did not see the fist coming until it was too late as 'Stephanie' turned around.

As he came to, he recognised Edna but not the man whom he thought was Stephanie … but in the back of his mind he thought he'd seen him somewhere before. Déjà vu.

"What are you doing here?" He scowled at the brown-haired man.

"He's my guest, Joseph. What are _you_ doing here? In my home?"

"What do you mean? Your home? Where's Stephanie? Are you hiding her?" He was irritated with her cocky response.

"Miguel, would you call the police, since we have a break and enter and attempted assault here?"

"I have a better idea."

This day was quickly going to shit in a handbasket. Morelli scowled as he recognised Lester Santos' arrogant voice. Fuck! He tried to get up and have a go at Santos but was promptly shoved back on his ass.

"Sit down and shut it, Morelli, or Joe Blow. You have no business being here."

A knock at the door changed the dynamics in the room but Edna came real close, placing her foot between his legs, putting Morelli on alert for a very different reason. He did not see who was at the door, but he heard the high heels and hoped it was Stephanie, so he could give her a piece of his mind. He whirled around to see leather clad legs in high-heeled boots.

"Joseph Morelli. You missed your court date and I'm taking you in." He was stunned as Jeanne-Ellen Burrows yanked his arms behind his back and cuffed him before he could react. He was more than pissed off.

"Jeanne? What the fu-" He didn't get a chance to complete his words when he was smacked firmly upside the head.

"Language, Morelli. Not in front of the ladies."

Bloody Santos. Joe sat there quietly fuming knowing he'd been bested by a woman in addition to being caught and fooled in Stephanie's apartment _and_ with an audience.

"Where's Stephanie?!" He yelled, as Jeanne-Ellen yanked him firmly to his feet.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Edna smirked at him. "None of your business, Joseph. Not anymore. So, back off and leave my grand baby alone. You have no call in asking about her, so watch yourself."

"She's mine! I had her first!"

Lester's hand suddenly grabbing him around his throat and being hoisted up the wall unceremoniously caught him completely off guard. Besides, he was incapacitated with his hands cuffed. He tried kicking out to no avail since the squeeze on his neck was warning enough.

Lester shook him and growled in his face.

"Need to know Morelli. As in … You. Don't. Need. To know. Stephanie is no longer your concern and has not been for a long time. You just don't get it. You will speak with respect in considering Stephanie. You hear me?"

He shoved him hard against the wall to get his point across still squeezing his throat for good measure. When Morelli reluctantly conceded since breathing became extremely difficult, he was dropped. Jeanne-Ellen grabbed him by the elbow and escorted him back to the TPD. His shoulder may have popped again.

Edna was at the front desk lodging a complaint about Morelli's B&E and assaulting her guest. She added that she was frightened by his home invasion and wanted to press charges. At the same time, Morelli was brought in and a hush descended in the TPD. Of course, there were a few cameras recording his arrival.

"I don't think he's gonna get bail this time." Morelli heard someone muttering behind his back.

"Yeah, sucks to be him. Cops don't do well inside the slammer, not even ex-cops."

This shook him to the core and for the first time, Joseph Morelli experienced fear of the consequences to come. The Golden Boy was no more, tarnished, humiliated, and it seemed he'd run out of lives."

 **Ranger's POV**

"Are you game? I know you have always wanted to fly, Babe. This is an awesome experience and you get 'to have a bird's-eye view of St John's and see the fabulous coastal scenery, the green hillsides and the spectacular blue ocean beyond.' That's what the flyer says."

She was jumping up and down with sheer delight.

"Omigod! Omigod! I'm sold! That is just so awesome. But how do I know what to do?"

She was excited and nervous and happy all at the same time. But mostly, she was excited.

"We can do a tandem flight."

"YES! I'm game."

We didn't have to queue for long. After the instructions and the usual safety preamble, we were harnessed up together with life jackets as part of the kit. Stephanie was bouncing with anticipation. We waited on the beach as the boat was attached to our main line and the colourful chute was held behind us by two assistants. She held my hand tightly.

"This is going to be so good, Babe." Her smile was blinding.

As the boat pulled away we had a gentle lift off, smoothly soaring above the water, attached to our parachute. Steph screamed happily while the grip on my hand tightened. Once the cable was taut we were high up above and behind the boat and the view was exhilarating, even for a seasoned veteran like me. Stephanie squealed with delight and pointed to all the sights. She couldn't stop smiling. My parachuting experiences were by stealth into warzones, jungles and night time drops. But this was a joyful experience made all the more exciting by this beautiful, vibrant woman beside me. The guide had told us a list of highlights to see and look out for. We soared with the wind blowing through our hair and that sensation of quiet, blissful flight. I just grinned at Stephanie's absolute joy and took some photos, so she could relish and remember this sensation. The boat circled the wide bay slowly and circumnavigated one of the lesser islands before coming in for a gentle landing on the beach. They unharnessed us, and Stephanie leapt into my arms and kissed me.

"That was totally AWESOME! I was flying! Oh, what a glorious feeling! Omigod, Carlos. That was so, so, … unbelievably brilliant! I'm still buzzing."

She sure was, my adrenalin junkie.

"Would you like to try it solo, Babe?" Silly question. I collected the three-photo package of our take off, in flight and just before landing. They captured Stephanie's blinding smile. And I booked her solo flight.

I videoed her take off and some single shots as she soared high above the bay. I chuckled as the boat slowed down, causing her to slowly drop lower, closer to the water. Before long it was like she was running on the surface of the water and then she went down knee-deep. This was the part where she started freaking out. Of course, I captured that all on video and could hear her screams of joy as the boat sped up lifting her high up behind the boat. I couldn't stop smiling. She was so infectious with her laughter and happiness.

"Omigod, Carlos! Did you see what they did to me?"

The skipper of the boat gave me a memory card with footage of her solo flight from the boat view. He grinned at her almost indignant tone.

"You did that on purpose?!"

She was incredulous, but she had a blossoming smile as she realised it was a deliberate part of their routine with tourists, especially newbies. Good recovery, Babe.

"And here was me thinking that you were a lousy skipper. I was freaking out!"

We all laughed.

"Yes. You were, Babe. I have it all here," showing her my camera and the memory card, "as evidence. You did well on your first solo flight. Proud of you, Babe." I kissed her on her wild hair.

From then on, I don't think Stephanie's feet were touching the ground because she was floating on a cloud of euphoria. She was talking quickly with animated expression reliving her flights. She hugged and squeezed my arm as we walked back to the resort. Before I had even closed the door, she pounced on me with a hard kiss which drove us the bedroom. She made short work of our clothes and pushed me down onto the bed. Her enthusiasm led to an equally enthusiastic round of passionate love-making. We both collapsed panting but smiling. Stephanie was breathless but humming, in a fashion.

"Mmmm … Best day of my life, Batman. I was flying, and it was so _fucking_ awesome and then this, this, you and me, making passionate love. Yesss ... The best day of my life, Carlos."

She hummed happily as we recovered with light touches and cuddles. Post coital bliss suited her. Who am I kidding? It suited both of us. What this woman does to me. She has brought a whole new chapter to my ordered life: a chapter of freedom, light and love. She's it for me. I never thought my dark soul would ever have the opportunity to share this kind of experience, this sensation, so vibrant and spontaneous with a wonderful woman such as Stephanie. She makes me feel. She makes me want to live and love. Being loved so intensely is very liberating. And it's unconditional. Her joy is contagious, and I would do anything for her to make her happy and keep her happy. She certainly deserves it.

After a shower we packed our bags, and after checking out, we bused to the ferry taking us to St Thomas. I had arranged for our bags to be transferred to our next destination, a surprise for Stephanie.

We headed to the Skyride, a gondola ride just over 700 feet to the top of the highest point of the island. Keeping Steph in the air, flying high was a good motive. Of course, we had to have the infamous banana daiquiri at the top whilst enjoying the breathtaking views all around. Stephanie marvelled at all the boats in the harbour and the cruise ships way down below in the bay. We watched as a third one berthed, glad we were up here early enough before the hordes of tourists took over. Lunch was pleasant and then we took the gondola back down. Phew. Our timing was perfect as there was a long queue to get to the top. Sunset views were popular and in demand. There are many other beautiful places to view the sunset, without a whole lot of other people crowding and ruining the ambience.

There was no rush, and no schedule, so we had a leisurely stroll along Paradise Beach, stopping for a drink at one of the many beachside bars, listening to the calypso music, and watching the locals and tourists dancing. We held hands and enjoyed walking in the gentle waves rolling in. Stephanie's sighs told me so much. I stopped and held her face in my hands and kissed her reverently.

"Babe. Your sighs are very telling. Care to share."

Her eyes glistened, and I thought for a moment that I may have misread her. But her sweet smile and reaching for both my hands instantly calmed me down and I breathed again, having instinctively held my breath.

"Carlos. This is just so wonderful. I feel so happy. I feel so relaxed and this going slow is so … revitalising. I feel like I'm in recovery, in a good place. We're here together and it feels so right. Being away from all the crap of the Burg has been totally awesome, just what I needed. It's peaceful here with the gentle waves here at our feet, the blue sky, the sunshine and the white sand, the palm trees. All of it. You promised me some place warm and sunny, and you delivered, in spades." She sighed again and leaned into me. I kissed her chastely and agreed with her.

"Yes, Babe. I thought this might hit the spot. It's been ticking all the boxes for me, too. And, for the record, I also feel revitalised and relaxed. But it is so much more special with you here, by my side."

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder as we walked back to the dock.

We ferried to St Johns and walked around the market place, window shopping and soaking up the Caribbean vibes as we walked along. The tourist bureau recommended visiting some of the historical sights, hiking and eco adventures. We went to the store and bought some assorted meats, cheeses, crackers, fruits, nuts and some wine.

A taxi ride up the side of the hill brought us to our new destination, a villa, set apart from others. The gated residence made Stephanie curious.

"This is not a resort or a hotel, is it?"

"No, Babe," I whispered into her ear. I tipped the driver as he placed our bags in the foyer.

"Have a look around while I see the driver off and through the security gate." I knew her curiosity was piqued.

"Omigod, Carlos! That is so amazing!"

 **o.O.o.**

 _TBC_

 _He's done it again! Ranger has hijacked this chapter! I can't just do a quickie and end it, since we all know that Ranger has a lot more finesse than just a quickie. ; ) Tee hee hee._

 _What did Stephanie find? What is so amazing?_

 _Let me know your thoughts. The end is nigh. I do think one last chapter is deserving and appropriate … without Morelli and Helen spoiling the atmosphere. Karma has come to those in their own special ways._


	18. Checkmate

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 18**

 **Checkmate**

 _The characters you recognise belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone. A warning for a bit of smut._

 **..o.O.o..**

Stephanie's reaction was as I expected but I wonder which aspect had her so rapt. I put the cold meats and cheeses in the fridge for the time being except the soft cheeses. I opened the bottle of merlot to let it breathe as I set two chilled glasses ready on the stone benchtop. I placed the Castello and brie on a large white platter to soften at room temperature.

Smiling at her excitement I walked to the sliding door and saw her admiring the huge deck area while reclining in one of the chaise longues with that sigh that made my heart skip a beat. She hadn't looked beyond the railings but was just enjoying the outdoor ambience of the almost wrap-around veranda. I sat beside her on another lounger offering her a bottle of water.

"This is amazing, Carlos. I always visualised sitting in one of these chairs on a wide balcony or a porch or one of those wrap-around verandas in a tropical paradise." Her eyes closed on another sigh. She was soaking up the immediate sensation of just the veranda with the potted palms and tropical plants and the outdoor furniture. Go figure. It made me smile. She then spotted the fruiting lime tree and grinned.

"That looks like I might have to enjoy a mojito, or two," and her smile brightened even more when she recognised the tub with fresh mint growing in it beside a larger lemon tree.

"Definitely! Omigod, and margaritas too."

Walking over to the bar, I set the music and the veranda lights on low. It was very pleasant and cool in the shaded area of the wide verandas. Stephanie was blissfully unaware what lay beyond the veranda. All in good time. It was still warm, and it was a couple of hours until sunset. Perfect time to chillax and settle in. We have had a busy week already and some rest and recovery times for both of us gives us a chance to re-energise.

Together we set up the platter with a selection of crackers, the other cheeses, the cold meats, nuts and strawberries. I added sliced apple and dried apricots and the juicy grapes, mango and melon to another platter. They looked very appetising. She carried the wine glasses and the bottle of merlot outside and we sat on our comfy chairs, feet up, and clinked our glasses.

"Salud, mi amor."

"Salud, mi amor." I smiled at her response and kissed her luscious lips.

She walked over to the edge of the wider deck area and stood in awe of the sight. She took in the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the crystal clear Caribbean waters down below to the lush gardens around the villa. Between the palms we had a clear view to the pristine beach. I knew precisely when she spotted the pool with the waterfall cascading over the rocks surrounded by more greenery and colourful bougainvilleas and frangipani. Her head spun round, and she stared at me intently. I walked up to her, leaning against the veranda railings and taking in the panorama. Yes, I had chosen well.

"Carlos," she said reverently, "this is beautiful. And, so peaceful and …," another sigh, "just so beautiful." I kissed her gently, cupping her cheek in my hand and she leaned into it.

"Come. I'll show you the rest," as I took her by the hand and escorted her the full length and breadth of the deck area and the veranda. She was very taken with the breathtaking views and the lush gardens surrounding the pool area. It was so very secluded. The waterfall came down from the hillside as if it was a spring. There was no evidence of neighbours on any side.

Leaving our glasses behind, we walked down the steps to the pool area with its spa and loungers and colourful umbrellas. The gazebo caught her eye with the table and chairs. The lanterns around each of these features created a natural ambience, even though the sun was still hovering above the horizon.

I undid her blouse and slowly took it off her now golden shoulders, kissing my way across her collarbone and along her beautiful inviting neck. Simultaneously, she removed my shirt in the same manner. We kissed slowly with soft caresses as our shorts disappeared. Removing the last items of clothing we stepped into the pool and luxuriated in the privacy and freedom of this natural setting, brushing skin to skin.

"You look so beautiful, Babe. I think Caribbean life agrees with you." She smiled sweetly and sighed.

"This has got to be the best experience of my life, Carlos. I can't believe how somewhere like this, with you, can make me feel so relaxed and peaceful. I don't ever recall such a feeling in my life and you have made it possible. Thank you."

She lifted her legs and wrapped them around my hips and I took full advantage, kissing her deeply while caressing her breasts, her sides and her sweet little ass. Her hands were doing much the same, except hers went over my chest and abs and grabbed my ass firmly. I lifted her and slowly entered her warm heat, setting a slow pace and eventually climaxing in glorious ecstasy. We swam for a bit and Steph explored the waterfall, letting the cascade hit her shoulders like a water massage. She went behind the water curtain and I heard her giggle and joined her. I lay beside her on the natural shelf and we kissed some more and touched and caressed some more. When she swam to the edge of the pool she squealed in delight.

"Omigod, Carlos." She was in awe. "This is one of those infinity pools! It looks like we're on the edge of the sea from here." Looking over the edge at the natural landscape with the overflow below, she spotted the stairs and landings that led down to the beach.

I led her from the pool when her tummy made its presence known and we laughed together as I wrapped her in a robe and towel dried her hair to wrap it up in a turban. She rubbed me down, mostly playing attention to my chest and abs, until another rumble interrupted us again. I wrapped my towel low over my hips, gathered our clothes, and we made our way up the stairs to the main deck.

She certainly had an appetite and we ate and drank heartily in silence. Once again, she took in the entire landscape.

"Carlos? How did you find this beautiful place?"

"I saw it advertised."

"Yes … Go on."

"Well, I liked it, but it needed some work and …" I shrugged.

"What? You mean …? Advertised as in, available for a vacation?" She paused as she considered my words again.

"Omigod! You _bought_ this?" I grinned and shrugged my shoulder again at her realisation. Her jaw dropped in surprise and I took advantage of her open mouth with a searing kiss.

"Wow! That's just crazy. Crazy _awesome_ , you know what I mean."

I chuckled. "Is that "Wow!" for the kiss or "Wow!" for this villa?"

"For both. This villa is totally awesome. And I haven't even explored inside yet. Besides, you know you are a fantastic kisser. You make me want more. You're also pretty fantastic with everything else you do to me and for me." She blushed. So, I kissed her again, gentle and sweet.

As we were finishing the wine and the platters, we considered getting re-dressed but decided to stay as we were. Steph removed her turban towel and rubbed her hair dry, finger-combing her curls into some sort of order. We just sat overlooking the pool as the sun began to set, holding hands with Steph sitting between my legs, her back to my front. The sunset was spectacular this evening, golden and then blazing oranges and reds as the sun seemingly sank into the ocean. It was offset high above with that stunning aqua to dark blue and almost violet creating a great contrast.

I watched her taking in the glory of the sunset. She smiled.

"That would never get old, you know? It is stunning. I have always wanted to see the sun set over the sea."

"It was one of the main reasons why I bought this place; the pool, the privacy but especially the forever sunsets."

"When did you buy this place, Carlos?"

I couldn't help my smile, but the intense look she gave me over her shoulder indicated she was determined to get an answer, especially when her eyebrows rose together. I kissed the knuckles of each hand before lifting and turning her to face me, her legs straddling my lap. Easy to do with her in this robe. I slipped my warm hands inside and caressed her soft skin.

"Well, to be honest, it was after our first encounter, in the diner, that I decided to look for a special place. If I was ever to deserve a life with love, _and_ find a beautiful, wonderful life partner, someone like you deserved something special like this. But it was some time later, when I kissed you in your parking lot … when you had all those _problems_ with cars blowing up and so much more … that I added another one by kissing you. That was when I felt a kindling of hope and I actively searched for just the right place. It had to be special, it had to be unique. Do you know how irresistible you were to me? You still are. You were my forbidden fruit and I even tried to deny it. Something to do with why a dark soul like mine could possibly deserve a beautiful soul like yours."

Steph was very quiet, and I could hear the gears going around as she considered the implications of my words. Her eyes twinkled in the flickering light of the lanterns as a tear slowly rolled down her cheek. On a shuddering breath she replied very softly, "I suppose being on and off with Morelli didn't help either."

"Hm. That is only partly true. I also made things awkward with those stupid disclaimer statements. Sending you back to him to fix your relationship after that awesome night of the 'deal' – _Dios_ , that was just so fucked up – it was one of my deepest regrets yet simultaneously, it was my greatest fulfillment and indulgence. I knew for sure that night. We had such a special connection like I have never had before. However, as you know, neither one of us was ready to commit. We were both in denial, Babe. I knew that if it was meant to be, you would give me a sign. And you did. _And_ , you used the precise word to unlock my self-imposed denial and detachment. **Destiny** , Babe. Destiny."

I wiped the tears away and brushed my lips softly across hers. I held her closely, gently stroking her back and her arms whilst whispering soothingly in her ear until she was ready and calmed. She sniffed a bit and took a deep breath with the hint of a shudder.

"Wow. You really know how to knock a girl over, Batman. Way to sweep me off my feet."

She chuckled and shook her head, her curls bouncing.

"Who would have thought that I would ever be grateful to my cousin Vinnie or for E.E. Martin for the Feds' discovery of their corruption and money laundering. Unbelievable. But, you know, I am forever thankful that you came into my life, Carlos. You made me want more from my life, to even question it and my direction. I wasn't prepared to _settle_ because of Burg expectations and despite the constant harassment from my mother and Morelli."

She shuddered at that last declaration and the ramifications of that wretched scenario. Stephanie sighed, a sigh of relief before a wry grin appeared on her beautiful visage.

"Jeez, Louise. I really did dodge a bullet there."

We stayed in each other's arms for a bit longer. I knew her curiosity was piqued, and she would have to ask. I didn't have to wait long.

"So, how … when did you make this happen?" I grinned and kissed the tip of her nose.

"It was after one of my South American government contracts. Before heading stateside, we debriefed on this island. One morning, while running I chanced upon this place and saw so much potential. I made the purchase complete on my return home."

"You've had it for a few years already?"

I nodded.

"There were a lot of structural repairs needed and some major engineering works. Basically, I had the place totally refurbished. That took about two years, especially this veranda, the deck area and the infinity pool. The interior was more straightforward."

"Speaking of the interior, I haven't seen it yet."

With that, I shot up and carried her inside, over the threshold amid laughter and playful pats on my ass.

"Allow me. Have a look here while I bring in the platters and secure the villa."

I set the lights to security mode with the sensors activated. In the meantime, Stephanie had rinsed the platters and the glasses.

"Leave the rest, Querida. We have places to be."

With that I closed the blinds, threw her over my shoulder and carried her upstairs.

 **..o.O.o..**

 _TBC_

 _See? Ranger has some unfinished business and you know what Ranger wants … ; ) Who am I to say no? Would you?_

 _More surprises to come._


	19. Paradise

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 19**

 **Paradise**

 _The characters who are familiar belong to Janet. I am only borrowing them for fun and games. The mistakes are mine alone._

 **..o.O.o..**

We have had a wonderful glorious time together here on the US Virgin Islands and we are certainly not ready to rush away just yet. This adventure is not end dated. Every morning we go for a run along the pristine white sandy beach, our beach, and then race up and down the stairs for extra cardio. We swim every day. The waters are so clear and refreshing and surprisingly quite warm. Of course, I have a basic gym in the enclosed space below the deck area. We have done great workouts there and some other recreational activities, like christening some of the equipment. Yes, I smirked, but it's still cardio after all and we were both very happy.

I'm full of admiration for Stephanie's magnificent transition and the challenges and changes which she had chosen to take on and done so successfully.

Thinking about a before and after scenario, looking at her svelte physique, it is hard to imagine her any other way. She looks fit and healthy, and, in less than two weeks here on the islands, she has acquired a glorious Caribbean glow. I can also take some credit for her golden glow but that is an entirely different glow factor. _I know, being smug again._ Her hair is glossy, and her curls are bouncing freely. I love that wild hair of hers so much. She still has her beautiful curves and I love her more each day. _Dios_! Listen to me. I must admit it, I am profoundly _in_ _love_ with this remarkable, sexy, wonderful woman. And the feeling is mutual. Our love is mutual and unconditional.

We talk a lot including expressing our emotions and we listen to each other. Sharing childhood stories has allowed us a new perspective on our very different upbringings and an insight into how we coped and what we experienced in our tumultuous teenage years. Many of her experiences made me very angry and frustrated with her family. How she was able to release the apron strings from that harpy of a mother and the constraints and chains of the Burg, and _still_ come out smiling and resilient, still amazes me.

We love and laugh every day and at times have had a few disagreements, but really, what is there to disagree about here? This lifestyle agrees with both of us. And, perhaps, disagree is not the right word. We are not in denial or removing ourselves from reality. The fact is, we are appreciating the quality time together and it has cemented our relationship irrevocably.

Tank, who has always had my back, gave me the best advice. "Escape," he had said. "Not run away. Escape. You deserve a break, a real break. You both do."

Of course, he was so right. An escape was what we needed, an escape to paradise. Being able to have down time for more than even a weekend has been so precious. But sharing this time together, without interruption or interference, or expectation, _escape_ is singularly the most special and rewarding part of it. Time together and not that feeling of living in a goldfish bowl. Half the people are rooting for us while the other half are waiting, poised like sinister vultures, hopeful for us to fail. The peacefulness and tranquillity we are enjoying here on these beautiful islands, are a stark contrast to the hectic pace we had in Jersey and the toxic influences which constantly tried to pervade our lives.

Trenton doesn't come up in despatches much and we prefer to keep it that way. With our escape to paradise we found ourselves less inclined to spend time on a computer or on our phones. It has been necessary but not so much daily.

Rangeman has made the move out of Trenton right under their nasty noses. Tank and Hector have kept me apprised of the transition and all the men were enjoying the subterfuge and secrecy.

To think that my initial appraisal of Trenton as an appropriate location for a security company was close to being reconsidered as I researched its potential. However, it met all the criteria, especially on a needs assessment and demand basis. After the initial foundations were in place, I planned to have a team run the Trenton office. Boston and Atlanta were also ideal locations for a security company and were running successfully.

This was a concept I had while considering preparation for civilian life for my men and other vets who needed to feel valued and to be productive contributing members of the community. My core team, Tank, Lester and Bobby, were the main stakeholders and we had frequently discussed this vision and how we could create meaningful employment for ourselves and retired military personnel. We also selected people with specific skills, some of whom had no military experience, but were familiar with the team concept. Besides, we needed a smoke screen while many of us were still under contract for the government.

Through the rigid screening process, which included both mental and physical fitness, after Trenton was firmly established we were able to gather a solid team for each branch. They understood the high expectations of them and were relieved to be in a pseudo-military environment. Incorporating a high standard of physical fitness served a dual purpose. It enabled them to channel their energy, anger and frustrations on quality equipment. Secondly, it facilitated their need for productive leisure time. Including gun range time, gym time, defensive driving and various computer skills provided variety. It gave them confidence. Discipline was the underpinning principle. The nature of the job, especially skip chasing and much of security and protection services we provide, make it an ideal fit and a natural transition for these military men. We are, after all, hunters in many respects. Our military experiences incorporated these aspects.

Since I was seriously contemplating moving to Miami, meeting Stephanie somehow changed that. I found myself wanting to stay in Trenton, captivated by this woman. I was drawn to her, and in my role as her mentor, I saw something unique in her. She was not afraid. There was no bullshit and pretence and I found that refreshing. Her initiative and innate yet unconventional tactics along with her tenacity to solve mysteries, made me, and my men, sit up and take notice. Her local knowledge was a game changer, an advantage we did not possess and which we found invaluable. Crazy as it sounds, there is something authentic about her spidey senses and her intuition. Most intriguing of all, Stephanie Plum, unlike most women, did not objectify me nor my men.

 _But I digress._ Being here, in paradise, can be likened to me being 'in the wind'. My absence is not as conspicuous as it may seem. Rangeman can run efficiently, with good reliable personnel in command. It's like a well-oiled machine which we maintain consistently to a high standard.

And Stephanie's absence? From what I have heard, the rumour mill is in a frenzy especially with Joe Morelli's intentions and did he murder her? Or is she held captive, trapped or is she his sex slave? Has she run away from Trenton? Is she pregnant and escaping the wrath and criticism of the Burg? Has she run away from Joe? This unhealthy obsession of theirs with Joe and Stephanie makes me ill. And furious. It has me shaking my head. Have we eloped? And so many more wild notions. But Tank tells me that Morelli's antics have taken the forefront and any concern for Stephanie has diminished.

Morelli wasn't bailed initially, and we decided it could be fun in an ironic and warped kind of way, if Rangeman was to cover his bail as a secret benefactor. That would really mess with his head. Tank, Lester and Bobby were working on 'subtle' ways to let him know to whom he should be grateful. Hector promised photos.

Speaking of photos, we have made wonderful memories and taken lots of photos of each other, sharing and enjoying exciting experiences. Just watching Stephanie's joy and delight in our daily adventures is something that will stay with me forever. Her natural spontaneity and enthusiasm is infectious. Stephanie has become more adventurous and we have ticked a lot of boxes on her virtual bucket list. Mine too for that matter. Alternate days are restful and low key. There is no rush. We could be here, in paradise, forever. Now there is a thought.

But we are keeping our distance and thoughts from Trenton, happily relishing in the bliss and glory of our escape to paradise. As it turns out, we both needed more relaxation than either of us gave credit for. That realisation took a few days to hit us. Thankfully I had planned a sensible balance between leisure and relaxation and more active pursuits like regular tourists do. Like gently easing Stephanie into the sun and heat exposure, we eased into our roles as tourists. We didn't make a strict agenda. We are flexible, and we have all the time in the world.

Together, we discussed the options over a delicious tropical salad and satay chicken in the gazebo today. We agreed there was no rush. We like the laid-back life style of the islands. She blushed when they called her Mrs Mañoso. I'm sure they thought we were on our honeymoon. _Now, there's another thought._ Each day I made sure she wore a flower behind her left ear. _So, call me possessive._ It became a special little ritual before we left the villa each day which made us both smile. We felt the connection. It was a tender moment, every single time. And always sealed with a kiss.

We were not just regular tourists, we were becoming known in the local community and I had plans for a major contribution. Paying it forward has always been one of my mantras.

Stephanie missed the men who'd become her friends and whom she considered as family. The warmth, the sunshine, the blue skies and all the features that tropical islands have to offer were very appealing. And, there was still so much to see and do. Neither of us wanted an escape with organised group tours doing the must-do things and going to the must-see places. This was like an extended vacation ( _or it could be more than that_ ) but it was not a time or place where we wanted to cram it all in. She deserved this break. We both did. We wanted to enjoy our time here at a leisurely pace. Soak it up and enjoy it. Savour it.

Much to her surprise, in the market, Stephanie had an affinity with the little children who seemed to be drawn to her friendliness and natural persona. Sitting on a chair or bending down to their eye level was a winning move. They didn't try the tourist games with us.

"Which one do you think I should try today?" she had asked a little girl beside her who was watching her indecisiveness curiously. "What's your favourite?" The little girl smiled broadly and pointed to the cherimoya. Great choice. Her mother smiled and offered to cut the fruit in half for Steph, giving her a small spoon to scoop out the delicious flesh and warning her to watch the seeds. The little girl watched delightedly as Stephanie approved of her choice in the usual manner: she unabashedly vocalised her eating pleasure. There were other children watching and reacted warmly to my babe's enthusiastic response. She just shrugged her shoulders with a grin and ordered another two to go.

She listened to the children when they explained things to her when she wanted to try a new fruit or vegetable. Or she would ask the name of a flower or bird she saw. We made a daily trip to the markets and visited the local bakery and food stalls, preferring their produce and foods to the store-bought ones.

"I can't believe how many different varieties of tropical fruit that exist here. And, all of them so different and so luscious. Some are unusual, I have to say. I can't remember all the names of them, but I certainly remember the ones I really like. Like that cherimoya! Omigod. That was like a heavenly splash of tropical divineness. It makes my mouth water just thinking about it." When I pouted she laughed and nudged me reading my lusty look perfectly.

Then she'd ask one of the children to recommend a new one to her. Sometimes they encouraged her to taste them with her eyes closed, and because they already had a good rapport, she was not suspicious of them. Children do like to play mischievous tricks. They watched her closely for her response. Of course, being the mistress of mischief ( _now there's a lovely thought!_ ), she would react unpredictably, but she was always expressive. This was accompanied by a lot of laughter and giggles. The mothers running the stalls would smile approvingly.

At other times, they would explain how they grow and which part is eaten or how best to prepare it for eating. Like when to peel and when not to peel. Which ones taste better cooked or fried like the plantains. They liked that she wanted to sample their local favourites and many an animated discussion eventuated between the children over the 'fruit of the day'. Being diplomatic, Stephanie suggested that they each take turns and so the games were played. They were drawn to her natural charm as well. Children are very perceptive and recognise genuine traits.

One little girl came up to us shyly with a dumpling for us to taste. Stephanie's response was always lovely to see. She still has a fondness for food, never having been one of those women who eat like a bird. We always paid and over the course of the next week, we sampled something different each time. They laughed at her reaction to the spicier foods but made sure to offer her a tamer version to enjoy. She salivated over all the wonderful aromas and her appetite was appreciated.

We have done some more snorkelling on the beautiful coral reefs and over a renowned shipwreck site. We've been hiking and horse-back riding again, and sea kayaking over the crystal-clear waters. The clarity is truly amazing that you can easily see the colourful corals and sea life so vividly. Always being sun smart by wearing sunscreen, sunglasses and a hat and sometimes long sleeves, was a priority. Occasionally we needed insect repellent as the children reminded us.

Watching her interact so effortlessly with the children and the locals, I was nudged by one of the mothers.

"She is a beautiful person. But I see no ring? What is wrong with you? I see the look of love in your eyes. You love her deeply, yes?" I smiled and nodded.

I was only slightly taken aback with her directness and that she read me so easily. All this relaxation and paradise has allowed me to chillax and let my guard down. Yes, I still make a cursory security scan, but I had left my blank face behind.

"See. I know." She took my hand, looking at my palms and then at Stephanie before smiling up at me "At sunset, on the beach." _Now that was a perfect idea._

"I will cook for you and make a special feast." She winked at me before walking back to her market stall.

And all this time I had hidden my thoughts and feelings. Or I thought I had. But she was right. I had been contemplating this thought since we arrived, and before if I was to be honest. What has taken me so long? This is the perfect place. Sunset. Yes. On the beach. Yes. I smiled indulgently at my Babe.

 **.. .o..**

 _TBC_

 _Ah, paradise. Sigh ..._

 _I'm sure you can guess._


	20. Ambience

**MAKING MOVES**

 **Chapter 20**

 **Ambience**

 _The characters you recognise belong to JE. The mistakes are mine alone. We're just having fun in Paradise._

o.o.o.o.o

 **Ranger's POV**

Stephanie was confused when I told her the news.

"Are you kidding me?"

I shook my head, enjoying her reaction, her expression of doubt and almost disgust was quite cute. That'll never get old.

"Community service? It sounds more like punishment, like what first time offenders get for a misdemeanour."

Then she muttered, "Whatever I did, it wasn't my fault." And she pouted. I tried very hard not to smile.

"No, Babe. You're fine. It's not _that_ kind of community service. This is something we choose to do every year. It's our way of paying it forward. Nothing to do with reward or recognition, more like satisfaction in doing something for the greater good, for a great cause and not for payment. It's just something we do to benefit the community. Each year the Core Team selects a new beneficiary from suggestions made by the men. Each one is considered and prioritised."

Her mouth was open in the perfect "o" shape.

"Ohh. I get it, I think," she remarked softly letting it sink in.

"Many businesses, and even schools, are encouraged to do community service projects. For students at senior school, and nowadays even younger, it's a voluntary part of the curriculum and a very valuable accreditation on their college and job applications."

Her expression showed acceptance and then a wave of panic flashed across her beautiful face, her blue eyes widened and a little fearful.

"Um, Carlos … Does that mean we have to return home? Back to Trenton?"

Her thoughts continued with a malfunctioning mute button. I watched her and listened carefully. I could tell that the thought of leaving was causing her increased anxiety.

" _Oh shit. There goes my happy. Just when I was getting accustomed to this glorious vacation in this sunny warm … sigh … tropical paradise. With Carlos. Does that mean we are back to … Ranger? Shit! Is this just a short interlude? Go back to Trenton and we resume our usual mundane lives and non-committal non-relationship? I must be dreaming. It can't be real. Somebody pinch me. Not fair."_

"Ow!"

Stunned Stephanie frowned at me. Not playful. Melancholy. Her eyes were glistening.

 _Oh shit. That did not come out as I wanted it to. Dios!_

"Whoa, Babe. Breathe. Don't get yourself too worked up." I replied quickly whilst soothing her back with gentle rubs and down her arms slowly and gently.

She nodded.

"Firstly, it is still Carlos. Secondly, we are not going back to Trenton, at all. Only if you have a need to be there. You're overthinking things and jumping to all the wrong conclusions."

She sniffed and made a shuddering intake of breath to centre herself.

"Please let me explain."

With lots of little nods, she muttered okay and breathed more easily as I took her hands in mine.

"We had already decided, the Core Team, before we left Trenton that our community service project could be here. _Here_ in the US Virgin Islands."

Enlightenment. _Phew_.

"When we first arrived I approached the consulate, asking about the post hurricanes recovery after Irma and Maria. Remember how we saw the blue tarps from the plane as we were coming in to land? It seems that funding and support from the mainland has been slow and regrettably intermittent to be able to make good with consistent supplies, reconnecting power, and repairs to other utilities, buildings and infrastructure, as well as fresh water supplies. A lot of homes and businesses were damaged or destroyed. Even the resorts suffered severe damage. The Virgin Islands rely heavily on the tourist trade for their economy, so the impact was widespread both physically and structurally."

"The consulate?"

"Yes. I made some initial enquiries and initiated some of the necessary paperwork. I have consulted with them regularly and have some potential projects in mind. The Core Team was unanimous in making this decision. You might also have some ideas. Think about it. You have a knack of seeing things from a grass roots perspective. We want to community to benefit."

She breathed a huge sigh of relief. And a few smaller ones. The anxiety diminished with each sigh. I waited her out a few beats. I could practically hear the gears grinding.

"Oh, damnit. I'm so sorry. I thought things were just too good to be true and you were going to burst my bubble. Sorry. I know I have often resided in Denial Land, and I can't help myself that I question how my life has changed for the better, but I'm not accustomed to good things happening in my life …"

Damnit, I have made her cry. Big tears were streaming down her cheeks and she turned her head away.

Those bastards sure did a job on her in her Burg life. Damn them to hell! Her mother, Morelli and that Dickie idiot, Joyce Barnyard as she calls her and others. I shook myself out of this train of thought. Moving 're moving forward.

"You make me feel so special. I have never deserved so much loving attention …"

"Oh, Babe. You deserve this and so much more. I really appreciate what you have done for me, for my life, for my family and even for my company and the men."

I wanted to smile to make her smile, and ruffle her hair. She never looked more beautiful. I could just fall into those limpid blue eyes, like sapphire pools, and happily drown in those tears. My heart ached and I felt guilty for causing her unnecessary anguish. So I held her face, turning it gently to face me as I dipped down to capture her averted eyes.

"Stephanie, Querida. Mi amor. This is real, you and me, very, _very_ real. I'm not going anywhere without you by my side."

Hopeful eyes and that beautiful smile warmed me to the core.

"But..?"

I put my finger to her lips, raising an eyebrow, as I do, in mock warning.

"There are no buts about it. We have both moved on from that time. There's no going back. Moving forward, together."

I paused and half smiled at her.

"I'm sorry, Babe. God, I've been so stupid. We both have. We have a lifetime ahead to make up for lost time. Perhaps that was meant to be. No regrets. Destiny is what you said after all. The time was right. We were ready. We were finally on the same page. Our declarations of love on the beach at Point Pleasant over two weeks ago, was a heartfelt confession to each other, almost like vows. We are more than just a fling or an item. We are a couple. We are us."

I kissed her on the tip of her nose then her temples, and her cheeks before brushing my lips lightly across hers. Her tongue shot out to lick her lips and I took advantage, plunging in with a searing kiss only stopping to come up for air as her legs slightly gave way. Forehead to forehead we breathed and chuckled lightly.

"The things you do to me, Babe," and she moaned as I kissed her again, her arms going around my neck.

"I have never encountered anyone whose kisses are so powerful, so drugging and overwhelming to the point that I will swoon. I can't get enough of you sometimes."

I grinned my wolf grin at her as I lifted her and delighted in her laughter.

"Me neither. Let's do something about that," as I carried her into the bedroom to make mad passionate love to my woman.

o.o.o.o.o

Going for our daily morning run and a refreshing swim followed by a variety of exercises, became our new routine. Because of the lack of light pollution, the last of the stars were still visible but disappeared before we reached the halfway point of our run. We alternated using the gym, and with all the outdoor activities on offer, we maintained a solid fitness regime. Stephanie no longer complained about the early starts making her goal to reach the next bay's point before sunrise. Doing our stretches as the sun rose gave us time to admire the natural ambience of this paradise and then return along the white sands. The fresh clean air, the sun and the sparkling waters definitely gave us a new sense of appreciation for clean living and vitality enrichment. In addition, our diet was another plus with all the fresh fruit and produce. Also, considering our healthy sexual appetite for each other, we were the epitome of fitness and health.

Since we came over to the villa here on St John's, every morning we would go into the market square and buy our fruit and other supplies, often returning in the late afternoon for a delicious snack before we selected a meal from the many food trucks. Sometimes we would order a picnic basket for lunch on a horse riding adventure or on a hike through the beautiful lush green rainforest to see some of the many waterfalls which Stephanie loved.

Each day we did the flower routine behind her left ear. Sometimes we didn't even speak, it was so special and reverent that it left me speechless as she looked into my eyes with so much love. She saw it in my eyes too and it was always sealed with a tender kiss. Okay, so sometimes we didn't get beyond that point when the moment intensified and kissing led to more loving. So our departure was slightly delayed. Such was our schedule. There was no schedule.

Our days were eventful and enjoyable, with a balance of relaxation and outdoor, and indoor, activities. We enjoyed each other's company yet we were able to have some alone time. We did that quite often. Between the pool, the veranda, the deck area and the gardens with the gazebo, we had spaces where we could spend time relatively alone but not far from each other. We respected each other's need for space to relax, to read, float in the pool, hang in the hammock or do yoga and meditation. This villa was conducive to all that both inside and out. That's what appealed to me about this villa. It had so much potential and lived up to it in spades after the repairs and renovations. With easy access to the beach below we had it made.

We soaked up the laid-back atmosphere enjoying the rich sounds of the local music with its tantalising blend of reggae rhythms, calypso and ska along the beach, or some jazz at one of the open-air bars. This is what I liked about St John's, the ambient low-key atmosphere of the evenings. I prefer to stay away from all the hype and the so-called 'exciting night life' that is on offer on the other islands. Stephanie was also enjoying the change in pace. We both needed it and we both deserved it. What's more, we were happy in each other's company and the need to talk was not always a necessity.

The 'exciting night life' involved so many tourist type activities and we both preferred to leave the noisy, loud and rowdy party goers to their own. We did venture one evening over to St Thomas but the overwhelming number of cruise ship tourists was not what we expected, especially when you take into consideration there were three cruise ships berthed in the harbour.

At times it was embarrassing watching the behaviour of the alcohol-fuelled party people and night clubbers. Drug use was also evident given the stoned look, so different from the drunks. The young women who were beyond giggling drunk, in clothes that barely covered their bodies, was rather disconcerting. We've seen it all before, but the high concentration was alarming. So many, and young bucks too, and making themselves so vulnerable. We both shook our heads. We agreed that St Thomas was not our scene.

The unwanted and unwelcome attention Stephanie endured in that short time, so brazen and uninhibited, from young men plied with alcohol, had my Neanderthal inner man ready to rip their bloody arms off and beat them to a pulp. It seems Stephanie had the same issue with the frequent 'handsy' flirty women, of all ages (I might have rolled my eyes here) making very blatant, direct advances to me, even with wedding bands on. I have never been a fan of body crush places and nor was Steph. Neither of us is a fan of drunkards either, especially since we dealt with that a lot already in Trenton in our line of work.

We decided an early night together was much more to our liking and we did a lot of liking and loving that particular evening, our own versions of a very invigorating body crush!

o.o.o.o.o

In the market square, Stephanie engaged the children with ease and asked them about their experiences with the hurricanes. Their eager animated stories told of rooftops being ripped off and having to gather in the emergency shelter in the local stone church; the fear of the terrifying howling winds and the fierce pounding rains. The boats that had lost their moorings were washed up on the beaches like somebody had scattered a hundred toy plastic boats onto the eroded beaches and tossed hundreds of broken palm trees into the mix. Some of their family livelihoods were severely affected with many fishing boats and charter boats sinking or damaged beyond repair. Using the ferry to get to the safety was totally out of the question. Their school also suffered major damage but it had only been partially restored. She smiled at me and I knew she had chosen her cause. I nodded with pride.

Sitting at one of the beachside barbecue restaurants, Stephanie broached a leading question over her sunset cocktail. I was surprised it took her that long.

"Carlos? How do we do this community service thing with just the two of us?"

I smiled at her. She eyed me curiously and even gave me her glare. Suspicion replaced curiosity.

"I can't build things. I have no experience. Look at me."

As she thought about that, waiving the negative past thoughts of constant criticism and implied incompetence, she folded her arms and asserted herself. Cute. I was looking at her and I liked what I saw.

"Stop that. Okay. Spill. You're up to something. There's something you're not telling me."

I nodded. She drained her glass and we left to walk along the beach, taking our shoes off to walk through the water.

"Something good or bad?"

"Yes." I replied not actually answering her question. I can be vague and elusive at the same time.

She made a growl of frustration while contemplating her next question.

"Okay. Will I like it?"

"Yes." I couldn't help but smile at her mild indignation.

"Will it solve this community service situation?"

I grinned at her and let her dwell upon that. It didn't take long.

"Omigod! Rangeman! My Merry Men are coming over? That's what you meant with Rangeman being involved every year in a community service project. It's here, in St John. Not in Trenton!"

She was joyful and excited and leaped into my arms.

"That's fantastic, Carlos. I have missed them. They are like … brothers … like family."

She was beaming and squeezed my hand as we continued to walk towards the west end.

I explained how Rangeman had moved away from Trenton, right under their noses. She was rapt with that.

"So while we have been relaxing here in Paradise, they have moved Rangeman HQ out of Trenton to Newark?"

I elaborated that the secrecy and subterfuge made it all the more thrilling for the men.

"As a well-earned reward for their extra duties both with the big move and your Grandma's move into your old apartment as you partly oversaw, they get to come here for a week of community service and then a week of R&R. Lester and Miguel have some stories to tell you."

"Oh no. Please don't tell me she molested them?"

"Oh no. Not my story to tell. But she was totally in control and pleased to be part of the subterfuge."

I explained briefly how content her father was, how her mother had fallen from grace just after we left, and how Valerie now understands what her mother had done to Stephanie. I didn't want to dwell on that too much and cause her to feel guilty or have regrets.

"But there's more."

Her eyes lit up like it was Halloween.

"I also have Ella and Luis arriving with the men."

She screamed with sheer delight. I laughed. Thank goodness I had that trump card up my sleeve to distract her thoughts from her mother's demise. She will know the details, if she wants them, in good time, when she feels the need to know.

"So when is all this happening? When do they get here?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, Babe."

As we walked along the beach toward the setting sun, Stephanie was buzzing with joy. She turned, facing me, while walking backwards, unbuttoning her blouse, watching my eyes as she seductively shrugged it off her shoulders, casually tossing it aside with her sandals. Her sarong came off next and was flung flamboyantly into the air. Grabbing me by the shirt, she kissed me with a lot of tongue and then slowly undid the buttons on my shirt, tossing that aside before she laughed and ran off. I gathered up the clothing and raced after her bikini clad golden body. I splashed in the water to her right to distract her and as I quickly tossed our clothes onto the beach, I scooped her up and ran with her over my shoulders. I stopped and spun her around until we fell onto the sand. I pounced on her and kissed her deeply.

"You ran away from me, Babe."

She was breathless but nodded, smiling.

"That was naughty."

She grinned mischievously, nodding happily.

"Are you going to punish me, Carlos?" she asked seductively, perfectly rolling the 'r' in Carlos.

I kissed her again, this time so very tenderly which caught her by surprise.

"Te amo, Stephanie."

"Te amo, Carlos."

We kissed some more. She's like an addiction. I reluctantly had to rein in my hormones. This was not the place for what I really wanted to do to her, with her. I had a more pressing mission and she had almost hijacked my plans, again.

"I don't want this, _this_ what we have here, to stop, _ever_."

"I did say our stay was not end-dated, Babe."

"But what if I never want to leave? Like stay forever, with you."

"Then marry me, Stephanie."

She stilled and looked deep into my eyes. She smiled the sweetest smile.

"You know something? That is the first genuine proposal I have ever had. A proper proposal. Omigod."

Her eyes glazed over, glistening, smiling wistfully.

"I'll ask you again. Stephanie Michelle Plum, will you marry me?"

She smiled.

"Does that mean I get to change my name? Can we get married here, on St John? On the beach?"

"Yes, if that is what you would like."

She sighed.

"For real? Yes? Yes to all of them?"

I nodded and smiled, flashing my 100 watts.

"Babe. You haven't answered my question."

"Yes, Carlos. I will marry you." And that was sealed with a toe-curling kiss. Both our hearts were pounding and I squeezed her with a hug of exhilaration. Destiny, she had said. Destiny.

I stood us up and gently dusted the sand off her body with the cast aside clothing. Reaching into the zipped inside pocket of my shorts, I pulled out a small black velvet drawstring sachet and presented her with the ring. It sparkled brightly in the last sunbeams of the glorious rich red and gold sunset and slipped it onto her left hand, bringing her hand to my lips to leave a lingering kiss on her ring finger. We kissed to seal our betrothal and watched the sun sink into the sea. We just held each other close in a tight embrace intermingled with reverent kisses.

We dressed slowly and walked hand in hand back to the market square. A candle lit table was set for two with flower petals scattered on the white tablecloth. The small white party lights came on all around the trees that surrounded the market square making her ring sparkle in this ambient setting.

"It's beautiful, Carlos. I can't believe you had it with you all along."

"To tell the truth, Babe, I've had this ring on me since we arrived. It has been sitting in my safe at Rangeman, since I decided you were the one. I have been waiting for the right moment to ask the big question but each time it didn't feel special enough. I really wanted to ask you when you were relaxed and, well … I wanted it to be memorable."

Marta came over and beamed at us, leaving a tasting plate of small morsels of fruits and small fried delicacies including plantains, empanadas, Johnny cakes, dumplings. This was followed by ackee rice and saltfish garnished with tomatoes and bacon, coleslaw and roti. While we only had eyes for each other, champagne corks popped and we were given a glass each.

Talk about being aware of your surroundings. Not! The entire area was decorated with small coloured bunting that fluttered in the light breeze. I had not noticed that before, but it created a special effect, an air of true ambience with the twinkling party lights. Music was coming from a live band and everyone was smiling as other tables filled with diners, mostly local people. A party atmosphere grew. After a colourful dessert of mangos, berries and sorbet we became aware of a sudden quietness. We looked up and Marta held her glass up and made a toast for us. All the other diners were standing, beaming at us with their glasses poised.

"To Carlos and Stephanie. Congratulations!"

After many hugs and congratulatory back slaps, we danced and just enjoyed the impromptu, yet deviously planned, party atmosphere. It was a lovely way to seal our engagement with the friendly people of this community.

We strolled home to the villa and spent the rest of the evening celebrating in our own special way.

o.o.o.o.o

 _TBC_

 _Thank you for waiting patiently. If you are reading this, know that I am so rapt that you are still with me._

 _I had the chapter written in large portions and realised that I had to break it up into three chapters. Once again there seems to be a conspiracy led by Ranger to prolong this story some more._

 _Real life has been mighty fierce. My husband only had a brief remission and we are bracing ourselves for the next phase. I had to have surgery on my torn Achilles. Three elderly parents with their needs and foibles as 90 year olds. My laptop packed up and left home. Thankfully I have saved to my portable hard drive. Between fear and fatigue and having to share a computer, it has been stressful. But writing can also be very cathartic._


	21. The Good the Bad and the Ugly

**MAKING MOVES**

 **Chapter 21**

 **The Good the Bad and the Ugly**

 _All the characters who are familiar belong to JE. Any mistakes and the plot are mine alone._

o.o.o.o

While Trenton was preparing for the cold fronts that come down with the autumn changes, as the last hopes of any sunshine were extinguished, another virtual front was skulking and lurking in the shadows. Like a sinister creeping fog, it was slowly seeping into the cracks, starting to make its presence felt. And Trenton had many cracks. Only those involved in law enforcement and apprehension felt that foreboding sense of something, initially. It was not something tangible yet but that ominous feeling was becoming more noticeable and profound with each week.

Carl Costanza was not the first to acknowledge his uneasiness to Eddie Gazarra and Big Dog. They too conceded their discomfort and remarked how Robin had noticed it as well. She joined their conversation in the parking lot with the shift change, and confirmed her sense of trepidation. They never doubted her intuition, even in their role as police officers dealing with facts and evidence. But they could not shake this disconcerting sensation. Just like Stephanie Plum had her uncanny spidey sense, they did not doubt Robin's intuition.

"Something hinkey is going down. I don't know what exactly, but I can feel it even though I can't see it. And I reckon we're gonna know real soon."

They all pondered this quietly.

"You realise that Rangeman is no longer doing FTA apprehensions, don't you? They are not hunting and collecting skips. First Stephanie stops and now the Rangeman team too? Hmm. Well, certainly not for that sleazebag pervert Vinnie anymore, and not for any of the other bail bond agencies either. Come to think of it, I haven't seen any of those fine men in black for the last week and a half."

"Funny you should say that. You're right, you know. On our patrols we usually see their shiny black SUVs, and just this afternoon we both came to the same conclusion. Right, Big Dog? We have not seen any, at all. How weird is that?"

Big Dog nodded.

Shaking their heads in despondency and despair, they knew Robin would know firsthand since she manned the docking desk. The implications were going to be felt strongly very soon. The future was looking rather bleak. This did not bode well at all.

"Shit! That's a helluva loss with Rangeman MIA. Les Seebring has his regular bondsmen while Vinnie is still struggling to replace Stephanie. Lula is not cutting it and we all know she created more problems for Steph than her FTAs ever did, with one or two exceptions. That skank Joyce Barnhart slithers in for an occasional skip between husbands. And now without Rangeman … Shit!"

Carl had just summed up for them out loud what they'd all been thinking and dreading.

Eddie followed on.

"Vinnie's gonna be in deep shit, really deep. Not that I care or give a damn about that fucker. He can sink in it. Stupid greedy bastard didn't appreciate Rangeman's efficiency. He used that to his advantage. They were so slick and reliable. He just kept bonding more. We work our damned asses off to get crims and addicts off the streets, behind bars and into the courts and fucking assholes like him put them right back out on the streets. It drove me crazy how he didn't give a shit about perpetuating the danger with some of those crackheads and scumbags with a penchant for vicious and violent crimes. It was all about the money for him. He gambled and was ignorant to the fact that he put the community at risk. And he also put Stephanie at risk, repeatedly. He just took her for granted. I can't believe he would do that to his own cousin."

"Yeah. And now he has Morelli."

Big Dog's wry contribution to the conversation absolutely cracked them up. They all broke out in what can only be called cathartic laughter and guffawing which brought tears of mockery and derision to their eyes, Robin most of all.

They had all worked with Morelli over the years and although there were some good times, recent years had made them scorn him. His attitude to women for one and especially how he strung Stephanie along, all the while screwing Terri and Joyce, Stark Street hos and any young thing that fell for his inflated ego with that obnoxious swagger. They knew he was bordering on the shifty shady side and had already reached the point where they did not trust him. Taking credit for solving cases that were because of Stephanie's skills and talents was an issue that rankled them all. His contempt for Rangeman came as a surprise. He resented their success despite their presence making our jobs more manageable. When Morelli became a detective they soon noticed small changes. Then to see all that seediness blatantly displayed on the front page of the Trenton Times was priceless indeed. A Golden moment that sent the Burg reeling and their tongues wagging. So much irrefutable evidence. People in glass houses and all that.

Carl was shaking his head. With sarcasm, he spat out what they already knew.

"You know, the ramifications are going to hit Trenton hard, and pockets like Chambersburg, aka the Burg, are not going to be spared. People of the Burg have been totally ignorant and oblivious with the fact that since the arrival of Rangeman, even in its early formative months, they had made their community safer. _And_ , how Rangeman maintained the Burg as an Off Limits Zone. _And_ , wouldn't it just eat at their consciences when they discover that the main reason for this shielded security was none other than Stephanie Plum. The irony. They were so fixated with her not conforming to the "Burg/Stepford model" that they harassed and vilified her relentlessly. It pissed me off that her own mother and those Morelli women perpetuated the fault finding, Morelli himself with his abusive put downs and his infidelity. He didn't deserve her. And, let's not forget the betting club. Jeez. Stephanie's a survivor."

They all silently agreed.

Robin sighed.

"You know that means our jobs are going to be tougher especially when word gets out. With the lack of funding from the Mayor, it's going get ugly here in Trenton like we've never seen before those halcyon days when Rangeman set up camp in our 'hood'. Without Rangeman, our little part of Trenton is gonna be in for a surprise. The Chief and the Mayor had a lot of respect for Ranger and his Rangeman team. They certainly made an impact. It was always the highlight of my day when one or two of those fine men came in."

"I hear Philadelphia is nice, this time of year," mused Big Dog not to anyone in particular. He never says much but he had a knack for cutting to the quick.

"Time to go. Until tomorrow. Adios amigos. Vaya con Dios."

Carl's phone chirped with a message.

"Wait."

They stopped to watch him read it and were surprised when his initial frown changed and he suddenly laughed out loud. Curiosity had them piqued.

"Holey-moly, guacamole! Fu-uck! You're gonna love this!"

They gathered round, busting to find out.

"It's a message from Tank. Brief but not. No surprise there, man of few words. But Jesus Christ! This is the shit! This is **golden**!"

"Cut to the chase Costanza! Spit it out already!"

"Okay, okay. It says: ' _U need to know: Heads up. Rangeman withdrawal Trenton. Thanx to u 4 for ur support. BTW JoBlow's secret benefactor? Us!_ ' and he has a laughing and a winking emoji! ' _Be safe. Mr T._ '" Carl could barely say the last bit for the chuckling at the emojis as much as the secret benefactor.

With tears and bent over laughter until their stomachs ached, they all collapsed in various poses of hysterics trying to hold it together. Robin was the first to recover while the guys were still spluttering and coughing, hands on their knees and still doubled over.

"Oh. I feel _so_ much better already. I nearly wet my pants! But that confirms our suspicions," while still wiping her tears away.

Another chirp. Carl shook his head and just read it out.

"It's from Les this time: 'I hear Philadelphia is nice this time of year. Newark or Hamilton might be a nice change. Mr L.' and two winking emojis!"

Big Dog looked up and scanned the parking lot.

"That's freaky. My words exactly about Philly."

A mustang tooted and revved before cutting a sharp squealing U-turn and laying some rubber before it disappeared into the night. This brought a smile to their faces.

Feeling uplifted despite their initial unease, the foursome parted ways to head home and contemplate the ramifications of the portentous yet enlightening news, and breaking out in frequent chuckles at Joe's secret benefactor. How golden indeed.

o.o.o.o

 _TBC_

 _This felt like a good place to finish as once again hijackers, other than Ranger, want some of the inside run, hence a shorter chapter._

 _Oh how the shit is gonna hit the fan!_

 _While Stephanie and Ranger are blissfully in paradise, we have to find out how things go down and how there are always consequences for our actions whether they be good, bad or about to get ugly._

 _The next couple of chapters are already scribed, by hand, while my laptop was MIA and kerstuffed!_

 _Many thanks for the heartfelt wishes and prayers and the wonderful reviews. I know there are a lot of you, readers and writers alike, who are dealing with major and chronic health, family and mental issues. Real life is REAL. I love how writing, and, reading, can be such a release, an escape and cleansing like a tonic. Music and art therapy too._

 _Peace and love. Let's keep the spirit and strength to you all._


	22. Little Egypt

**MAKING MOVES**

 **Chapter 22**

 **Little Egypt**

 _Thanks to JE for her wonderful characters. The ones you recognise belong to her. The mistakes are mine alone._

o.o.o.o

It didn't take long. Before the two weeks was up, word had spread like a wild fire. Rangeman is out and they are in. Of course, it was Open Season for Chambersburg. They had been denied for too long and felt compelled to make up for lost time. Can't have this one little neighbourhood deprived of the action shared by other parts of Trenton. A bit of shared attention was only fair. So, to test the waters, to do a bit of fishing, metaphorically speaking, they sent in the young hoods.

It was the little things first which people assumed was just kids messing around. You know, "Boys will be boys." Vandalism was the start of it all. Graffiti and belligerent damage to signs and public fixtures. Stolen bicycles. There was a spate of car damage: broken wipers and mirrors, smashed headlights or tail lights; slashed tyres; stolen possessions from inside vehicles of unlocked cars. Honestly, who leaves a laptop or cash or a phone or even keys in a car these days?! They started out small. If the cars were locked, then a window was broken to get the goods. They moved swiftly through the streets under the cover of darkness. Early risers saw the evidence as they walked or jogged by, car after car with either a window smashed or doors open.

The Burg was not accustomed to this. In their complacency they had reasoned that Chambersburg was a safe neighbourhood. In reality, it hindered their progress and it explains to some degree why this neighbourhood seemed to be in a bubble of ignorance. Complacency, ignorance and the arrogance that pervaded the Burg caught them unprepared, and unwilling, for change and progress. They had _not_ progressed with their deep-rooted notions of Burg protocols. They were not prepared for change because they were oblivious to the progress around them beyond the Burg. Their unchanging lifestyle gave them a false sense of security. For them it was called stability. But, in actual fact, viewed from the outside world, beyond the constraints of the Burg, it was **stagnancy**. Furthermore, they were in denial. Perhaps Chambersburg should have been called Little Egypt, the Land of Denial! Short term memory loss was prevalent. They had forgotten the times when they had to be prepared for social issues and influences with crime and social discontent. Interesting how quickly they forget. There's that bubble again, a bubble of ignorance, complacency and stagnancy sprinkled with arrogance and one-upmanship. Tsk, tsk. Times are a-changing. Wake up people!

Young hoods on stolen bicycles were responsible for the car break ins. Security vision confirmed that. Then the burglaries started, bag snatching and some assaults, even in broad daylight. Stark Street locals made their way to this snug hub and traded in sex and drugs as they emerged into the usual night time activities. This was a huge shock for the Burg residents to see these things happening so blatantly in their cosy neighbourhood. When they complained about tyres being slashed, for example, and what a disruption that was to their daily routines, the reality of it hit them square between the eyes. Others too had the same experience so they couldn't put it down to an isolated prank. It was more widespread than they wanted to admit. It was becoming a serious problem and complacency was not going to make it go away. Messages on social media networks were filled with 'Omigods!' and 'What's happening?' and "Why is this happening to us?". The police phone lines were suddenly busy. The TPD recorded a record number of minor incidents.

That was only the beginning. Chambersburg was the new epicentre, so to speak. Other Trenton neighbourhoods were already hit regularly, but until recently, no one realised or understood that the Burg had been protected.

For the residents of Chambersburg this sudden crime wave was an unfamiliar experience. They blithely figured they lived in a safe neighbourhood. Ha! If only they knew. Ignorance is bliss. Their unawareness and lack of knowledge perpetuated itself in this Stepford bubble existence which seemed to pervade the ethos of the Burg. They were happily stuck in a rut. They actively discouraged knowledge, maintaining that good Burg girls get married and have children while making sure dinner is on the table at the designated time. Stephanie actively sought knowledge and this was why she was constantly criticised and targeted by the Burg. She wasn't banished, but their constant fault-finding, and focusing on her supposed failures and ineptitude was relentless. After all, her job as a bounty hunter was _unsanctioned_ and _not approved_ for a Burg girl. At the same time, they had a callous disregard for her successes. It was an unhealthy pastime of disparagement. She was the virtual whipping boy, the scapegoat to exemplify to any other wannabes, _this_ is what happens when you try to escape the clutches and tendrils of the Burg.

A meth lab appearing in their precious Burg was a turning point. When it blew up, some of the Bitter Bitches of the Burg were instantly reminded of that drunk witch Helen Plum, when her house burned down. And so a new rumour ran along the grapevine while there was a lull in the traffic. The new power players, jostling for position since the illustrious and glorious demise of Helen Plum and Angie Morelli, were using a faster, more powerful medium than the humble landline telephone and cell phones. Just like their forebears and role models, they were successful in malicious fault-finding. They still watched their own backs whilst casting aspersions upon others.

There were hit and run ram raids and shops were looted. Car stealing. Someone even ploughed a truck into Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. The sound of sirens was now more than an intermittent disruption to their day. Sirens were heard multiple times a day.

Extra manpower would have to be brought in to control and keep up with the increased crime rate and the TPD was feeling the strain with double shifts and extra overtime with all the extra paperwork.

The Mayor's office was fielding an increasing number of calls. The press was persistent with their hunger for an inside scoop. By tuning into the police scanners they heard of the escalating crime rate, particularly in Chambersburg. After recent scandals and then a lapse in sensational news to capture their readers, this was an unusual turn of events. They were hungry for details and tried to speculate about answers. Good news is fine, but bad news sells. The new editor was diligent that this broadsheet was not about sensationalism anymore. They reported the extent of the crime wave, documenting the range and prevalence. For the people of Trenton, especially those living in the Burg, seeing it written in print, in black and white, was more than a shock when it was all put together. There was a new element of fear for safety in their own homes and on their streets, added to their anxiety. When fear and anxiety are combined, panic starts to set in.

Frantic community members were making their presence known with complaints and their frightened concerns. They were very agitated. No longer making phone calls, they were on the steps of the Town Hall in large numbers, ever increasing as the morning wore on, determined to be heard. The Mayor didn't want to believe how badly things had suddenly regressed. Isolated incidents, which seemed minor, were becoming more frequent. But the increase in other, more serious crimes was most disconcerting. The Mayor even contemplated calling in support from other law enforcement agencies to bring some order. If there was an election looming it would not bode well. The Police Chief of the TPD was pestering him for more funding, more man power, more overtime, more of everything. His budget was tight and this was not an easy fix. He was perplexed. It was like someone had flipped a switch. Trenton had been manageable up until recently and suddenly it all went to shit in a huge handbasket! What the hell just happened? Why is Chambersburg suddenly the target of this crime spree?

In the emergency meeting late one morning, with the Police Chief and senior representatives from other law enforcement agencies, he asked that very question. The Chief of the TPD spelled it out very simply.

"Rangeman."

"Rangeman?! What do you mean Rangeman? Have they gone rogue?"

"No sir. Definitely not, sir. It appears that Rangeman has departed. Their building has been vacated. They withdrew their bail bonding services from Vincent Plum Bail Bonds and we haven't seen them since. That's now over a month ago. Their withdrawal was confirmed by four of my senior officers."

"You mean to tell me, that this escalation in crime is since Rangeman's withdrawal?"

"Yes. Pure and simple."

All the law enforcement members nodded in agreement shaking their heads despondently.

"Rangeman made a remarkable impact once they established themselves firmly in Trenton's domain and put the fear of God into the criminal sector. Their reputation as bounty hunters grew very quickly as they enforced the law with their diligence and expertise in skip chasing and branching out into a variety of security services. Of course, by enforcing the law, I mean a new regime of crime management and their intimidation worked in our favour."

More nods.

"Rangeman definitely made our jobs reasonable. While they hunted the failures to appear in court, we could get on with our role of upholding the law."

The Mayor was still confused but listening intently.

"So … What the hell changed? Rangeman has so many highly regarded men led by Ranger Mañoso. They're all Vets. Well, most of them. I know they are honoured and highly decorated men, some of whom are still active in service to our country. Hell, the number of deployments between them is astounding. They comprise Army Rangers, Navy SEALs and most of them Special Forces which made them so successful. So, forgive me, but I still don't understand. Why the sudden departure?"

"Yes. All that is true. No doubt about it. And I know I appreciated them and all my team at the TPD did as well, … with a few exceptions."

This last point was said with a different, downcast tone. He shook his head while running a hand through his thinning scalp.

"We all did. Their skills and experiences were superior to ours and they had a very sound understanding of the law. They were able to accomplish their tasks so successfully because they could move beyond our legal restrictions and limitations."

"Yes. Many times they were the first responders. They were efficient and contained the scene so that the crime scene was not compromised."

More nods of agreement.

The Chief still held the floor. It was good that he was not the only one aware of the change in dynamics in Trenton. He was relieved that others in this group were contributing to the discussion.

"I concur. There's some nasty shit out there. They supported us and readily gave us advice when we asked. The respect was mutual," replied the head of the Tactical Response Group.

"But …?" The Mayor was still confused. "I want specifics. Don't give me the condensed version. This strikes me as a complicated scenario. I just can't imagine Rangeman leaving on a whim."

The Chief nodded and rolled his eyes. He knew what was coming and felt somewhat chagrined to have to explain it. It was a pathetic state of affairs which undeniably led to this critical situation in Chambersburg. He cleared his throat and all eyes fell on him as he scrubbed his face with his hands in preparation for his delivery.

"We're dealing with a neighbourhood that lives in a bubble, in denial. They are a close knit community of second and third generation Italians, Polish, Hungarian and Jewish families and an increasing number of Latinos. The latter don't factor much in the way things emanated."

He paused, reluctant to admit how this could have escalated from just a few people.

"You have to understand that these families have lived in this neighbourhood for generations and much of their culture is deeply embedded in their way of life."

The Mayor gave the go-on gesture, nodding his head tolerantly but simultaneously with an element of doubt.

"This neighbourhood, Chambersburg, fondly call themselves living in 'the Burg'. They are one and the same. They live by the old ways and rumours abound; gossip is news. It sounds pathetic but it has a huge influence over the way the Burg lives."

The Chief took a sip from his water bottle, screwed the lid back on slowly and considered his next points.

"Ah... Let's say there are three issues here. Basically, we have the Burg gossip mill or grapevine; a bail bondsman who has gone overboard with providing bail for many very questionable criminals; and, we have a corrupt ex-police officer who exacerbated the entire situation. In addition, the media, the Trenton Times, has also fed off this, like vultures on a carcass, until the new editor took command."

The Mayor was obviously not expecting this information and his response was disbelief.

"Further to all that, we have Stephanie Plum, formerly from Chambersburg, who became a bounty hunter for the Vincent Plum Bail Bonds business. They are related, cousins in fact."

They all knew Stephanie and her reputation but also respected her.

"So, perpetuated by lies and myths, twisted tales buzzed through that insidious and duplicitous Burg grapevine. Helen Plum and Angie Morelli were the worst offenders, and their favourite targets, Stephanie Plum and Rangeman, were the ones whom they spurned the greatest.

Yes, Helen Plum is Stephanie's mother. It's complicated, and weird, but bear with me.

Most of all, it was fuelled by Joseph Morelli, a former corrupt TPD police officer. He had a deep hatred and jealousy of Rangeman, Ranger Mañoso, in particular. He, Morelli, didn't like competition as he enjoyed and basked in the glory of being 'the best thing to come out of the Burg' - not my opinion.

As you know, it didn't take long for people to take note, especially the criminal community, how efficient and influential Rangeman was. Their reputation for protection very soon surpassed Morelli's rep.

So he created doubt and spread fear and suspicion on these fine honourable men by calling them 'Thugs and Criminals'. He definitely knew they were Vets. Angie Morelli, yes, his mother, and Helen Plum, fed this maliciously through the Burg grapevine. Because Morelli was a _police_ officer, everyone believed his lies and deceit."

As the Chief glanced at the Mayor, his doubt had been replaced with dismay. Taking another sip, he prepared for the next component.

"Morelli had history with Stephanie Plum, not always good, and for a time they were in an on-and-off relationship, which later dissolved completely. Ranger mentored Stephanie in the bounty hunting game. Morelli was resentful as he still coveted Stephanie. He was a philanderer. Stephanie and Ranger worked closely together with Rangeman supporting her, and over time, they developed a professional rapport. Long before Stephanie and Ranger became 'an item', let's say, Ranger had declared that Chambersburg was out of bounds to the criminal community and set a protection order in place. This was to protect Stephanie and the people for whom she cared. Hence, Chambersburg has been under protection by Rangeman decree for over three years."

The realisation finally dawned. The Mayor scanned the room and saw that they all seemed au fait with most of, if not all, this information.

"Well, shit!" Shaking his head, the Mayor paced the room before turning to the Chief.

"So you're telling me, that because Ranger lifted the protection order, Chambersburg has suddenly had this crime wave."

"Yep. It's very convoluted but that is almost it."

"Almost?"

"We understand, that because of the sustained unscrupulous treatment of Stephanie Plum and the constant harassment from the Burg, Morelli and that idiot Vincent Plum, and the press, Stephanie withdrew from bounty hunting and joined Rangeman for whom she already worked part-time. Similarly, Rangeman was also treated with such disdain and contempt by this Chambersburg neighbourhood, based on the lies perpetuated by Morelli. And we believe, **that** is the reason for the Rangeman exodus."

Silence filled the room.

"Well, in my humble opinion, they got what they bloody deserved after all that time of protection. They just didn't appreciate how lucky they were. Jeez! Those morons had their very own security detail! _And_ at no cost. But you know, there was a cost. Damnit! They were good people. Burg idiots!"

Muttered curses and consensus filled the room.

"They had a gutful. They deserved to be treated so much better. Our loss will be someone else's gain."

"Okay. So, we will deal. We call it as it is. They need to know _exactly_ what they lost. If anyone asks, be sure to impress upon them the high esteem we have for these honourable men and their expertise, and, especially how they have served our country. They should be bowing down and thanking them with graciousness and total respect. These Chambersburg residents can pay for their security themselves after taking it for granted for so long. Too bad if they don't have insurance.

I will provide more overtime in the budget and manpower from other agencies until things settle. We'll create a task force to move the Stark Street 'business' back to their own domain. Use every bit of security surveillance to identify and charge all perpetrators. _Every_ one of them. It will be business as usual.

I have a press conference at 1400 and let's make sure we have as many concerned community members from the Chambersburg neighbourhood, to hear the truth. I hope they regret their stupidity."

The Mayor thanked everyone and invited them to join the press conference if they were available. He turned to the Chief.

"Well done. Yes, it was convoluted but succinct. Complicated always is. Well done. Such a pity, a great loss for Trenton. I'm sure the editor would like that line. Now tell me, where's this asshole Morelli?"

o.o.o.o

 _TBC_

 _No need to tell you who's next. Heh heh heh!_

 _Ranger and Stephanie have been blissfully enjoying paradise, and each other, in the Caribbean warmth._

 _Ranger has decided not to share Stephanie with us while the shit hits the fan._

 _And so the hijacking continues. I'm not holding them to ransom …_

 _I am looking forward to Spring with more warmth. Being in the antipodes, our seasons are opposite._

 _BTW Don't be upset with the different spelling:_ _Australian_ _spelling like neighbourhood, honourable and colour; realise, cosy, recognise and criticise - these are just a few that vary. There are many others but I thought I would cite these. I am a teacher and spelling is a thing that leaps out to me when I read._

 _Thank you for reading along and especially those wonderful reviews._


	23. Déjà Vu and Denial

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 23**

 **Denial and Déjà Vu**

 _The characters you recognise belong to Janet Evanovich. Any mistakes are mine._

 **o.o.o.o**

He couldn't believe his luck, really bad luck. First he was cuffed and arrested by Jeanne-Ellen Burrows because he missed his court date. He had so much on his mind. He was distracted. It wasn't fair. It wasn't his fault. And to make matters worse, it was at Stephanie's apartment with Edna Mazur cackling and those Rangeman thugs inside. He was sure he saw Stephanie ... in the kitchen. He expected to see a smug expression on Lester Santos' face, smirking and enjoying his demise when she dragged him to the stairwell. Nope. His blank face was there, stoic and unaffected but it was that body language which rattled Morelli, so menacing and radiating controlled rage.

He had rubbed his bruised neck at the memory as he sat cuffed to the bench in the TPD, cameras clicking. His life sucked.

"Sucks to be you, Morelli," someone muttered, confirming his thoughts.

He was so sure he'd seen Stephanie. That curly hair was unmistakeable. His obsession with all things Stephanie Plum were causing him problems. He was off his game. But where did Stephanie go? After not seeing her for a few weeks he was pleased to finally see her surface in the Trenton neighbourhood. He wanted to have words with her, strong words. He was so sure he saw her, three times this week.

Joseph Morelli needed a reality check.

While being escorted inside the TPD to the booking desk it felt like he was walking to the gallows.

Hearing those mutterings made him shudder and his normally swarthy complexion paled. The rising bile which came with the sudden nausea that followed the last remark was that reality check he needed. His surliness was quickly replaced with trepidation and fear.

"Cops don't do well inside the slammer, not even ex-cops."

He was processed by Robin just like a regular felon, as if he was a stranger. She treated him with disregard but not contempt, while checking and completing the paperwork with Jeanne-Ellen. All this threw him for a curve ball. It felt surreal. He was only half listening to their conversation as the documentation was logged. He handed over his personal possessions and they were bagged and documented. After he signed them off he was escorted to a cell.

In the cell he became quite introspective, analysing his recent moves and actions and how this present predicament would affect his future ... if he had much of a future. He was oblivious to the taunts and mutterings around him as he sat unmoving. It was a rare sight to see Joseph Morelli so quiet and pensive, lacking in emotion, yet almost morose. He scrubbed his hands over his face and through his too long hair, which was way past three haircuts. It was his new look, a bit wilder.

Much to his surprise, the following afternoon he was released with a warning not to leave the Trenton area. He was shocked. Signing on the dotted line, he turned to leave but before he walked out with his possessions, he scanned the reception area to gauge a reaction or an indication of who might have bailed him out this time. He felt almost hopeful with the thought that he still had some allies in here, or out there. No response, not a raised eyebrow or chin, not even a wink. In fact, the reception was icy and scornful. That was very telling. No allies here, that's for sure.

It was time to depart. He had some deep thoughts to contemplate. Another secret benefactor? An _anonymous_ benefactor. No one from the TPD this time. No one in his family, he knew that for certain. The Mob? He gulped. That would bring obligations. Who else could it be?

 **o.o.o**

Cocky swagger and all, no matter how he used his charm with the ladies, doors were slammed in his face, and more frequently, hands slapped sharply across his face. The most common retort was a firm, "Fuck off, Morelli!" No amount of intimidation seemed to work. Threats to arrest or bring out his handcuffs were no longer effective, aside from the fact that he had no authority. But old habits die hard. It was one of those instant involuntary reflex responses that comes after many years of work in that domain.

His snitches and sources were running thin, just as his funds were too. He didn't want to touch his reserve. Money talks and he had to be selective. He'd already been burned with misleading information. But they knew his reputation. He was known to retaliate. He had form.

After seeing the huge photo montage on the front page of the Trenton Times people were reluctant to be associated with him. There was no benefit for them to be seen in his presence. He had become persona non grata. He was bad for business and even in the shady parts of town, no one wanted any connection with him or it would reflect poorly on them. Even at his former work place there was an intense undercurrent.

Speaking of which, he noticed the distinct declining shift in the dynamics with his former work colleagues. They avoided him, avoided eye contact and avoided talking to him especially since that momentous day when he was brought in by Jeanne-Ellen. He knew from their body language they wanted nothing to do with him. No chance in hell that he might still be able to access information from his former buddies. They have now deserted him. Their frosty looks when he was bailed, the first time, said it all. He was not accustomed to this side of the law. Huge understatement.

Not having access to those background files or the computer links made his job so much harder. Previously he tried to ask for favours but his former colleagues turned their backs on him. They'd put up bail for him the first time. That ship had sailed. Their evasion was very telling. He'd burned his bridges. He'd been so deep in denial, firmly believing that his old buddies would still be willing to give him the inside info he so desperately needed. How wrong he was.

In fact, all this avoidance and negativity was making him question his methods. His usual tactics and sources were unavailable. He had lost his mojo. JoMo, aka Joe Blow, had lost his mojo. JoMo … mojo. Ha! That was another bitter pill to swallow for the ex-Golden Boy from the Burg.

Loyalties had definitely changed – not just his friends and colleagues, his family too. He had always been able to count on his mother. Angie Morelli was his biggest fan and supporter who actively promoted his good deeds through the Burg grapevine. And Grandma Bella, who always called him her favourite grandson, her 'Little Joey', had always staunchly supported him. Her evil eye scared the shit out of people, so no one dared challenge her.

But he blew that. Yep. Shot that to smithereens. They had disowned him and, along with that, his mother's delicious home-made Italian cooking was now a permanently closed kitchen. They had ignored and 'overlooked' his misdeeds, all his life, _enabling_ him, _rescuing_ him and making excuses for him. At the same time, it boosted their position in the power players of the Burg grapevine, those Bitter Bitches of the Burg. Turning a blind eye had given him a greater sense of power, not unlike untouchability.

Superiority.

That was now totally gone, wiped out. He was not invincible. He was just a man and fallible. That he was corruptible became very apparent in his later years in the TPD. He lost that venerated power.

Disappeared.

Shattered.

Self-inflicted.

 **Denial**.

He was reluctant to admit it out loud. He was even reluctant to consider it inside his thick head. Not taking responsibility for his actions had been a lifelong enabled habit. There were some regrets, okay, a lot of regrets, but there was denial, denial in spades. The regrets were superficial. He still has some way to go before he'd hit rock bottom which, unrealistically, he thought had already happened. Tsk, tsk. He still had so much to learn.

Immaturity much?

Irresponsibility.

Stupidity.

 **Denial**.

These life lessons were dependent on his acceptance and ability to move on. Joe Morelli was not there yet. Now, this _isolation_ was a totally new and inferior experience for Joseph Morelli. But there was more.

Rejection.

Loneliness.

Pain, emotional pain.

Depression.

 **Denial**.

Anger.

Bitterness.

Blaming others.

Stephanie.

He frequently sought refuge in a tumbler of whiskey, but mostly in a beer or six, which was more affordable. That period of drowning his sorrows and misery had mostly passed. He tried not to dwell on it too much. But there were constant reminders. Working for Vinnie now, _again_ , after many failed attempts at gainful employment, provided him with an income, irregular as it was, since each skip had a different return, depending on their bail conditions.

It was ironic how the thugs always recognised his POS du Jour. It seems that it was open season on Joseph Morelli. So far his car had been fire bombed, twice now. Graffiti appeared regularly, initially with the word 'DIRRTY' and then other choice words like 'FUCKWIT', 'SCUMBAG', and this week's addition was a lengthier scribe: 'Today was brought to you by the letter A, A for ASSHOLE'. Someone had a sense of humour, channelling their Sesame Street guise.

Last week, as he emerged from the stairwell with his skip, his POS was left on blocks, without wheels including no steering wheel! Another dummy spit which had to curtailed in the presence of his skip. He grabbed the other files from the glove compartment and stuffed them inside his denim jacket. So, in the pouring rain, he walked his skip all the way back to the TPD. He was so pissed off and the whining skip made matters worse. When they arrived at the TPD looking wet and bedraggled, and even more pissed off, his arrival had already been welcomed, but, of course, not in the usual manner of welcome. Entertainment.

"What the fuck is it with you guys? Fuckers!"

All the while, cameras clicked.

"I'm doing my job so you get on with yours."

He had forgotten his cop face with all these happenings. He tried to ignore them as he brought his skip to the booking desk and lodged the paperwork whilst trying to ignore the idiots taunting him.

"Where's your POS car?"

"Did you walk your skip here, all the way?"

"It must be raining out, ya think?"

Morelli refused to respond and remained furious while desperately trying to keep his cool. He was steaming and the internal rant remained within his headspace, his jaw clamped tightly shut. He couldn't get out of there fast enough once he had the cheque.

The truck he had next was fine until he opened the doors to discover the seats had been removed when he returned from visiting a dingy, needle-ridden apartment block. Someone was having fun at his expense. The car yard from which he bought his cars thought he was great for business, their best client. So the graffiti POS wagon became his regular ride when the others followed the rainbow road to car heaven. It was not an inconspicuous vehicle to use when tracking down a skip.

Does this all sound familiar? He couldn't see the irony yet. It wasn't his fault. He'd been enabled for so long. This felt very déjà vu. But things went even further, more going to shit in a hand basket. The only thing missing was a garbage truck. Give it time.

The day he saw a flatbed truck turn the corner driving away with his recent POS du Jour tied down on the back tray, nearly broke him. He just could not believe that this shit was happening to him. The tantrum he threw with a colourful discharge of expletives in two languages and, with all those wild arm waving and Italian gesticulations, was quite spectacular. In the process he slam-dunked his take-away coffee cup onto the footpath and stomped on his doughnuts in a fit of rage. The video footage was shared and liked rapidly like a wildfire. Had they deliberately distracted him inside the diner? As he glanced up to the window he saw their laughter and mockery. Someone stumbled outside, drunk with laughter, and picked something up off the roadside where his POS had been parked.

"I think they left you something. I'm pretty sure it's yours."

He tossed it to Joe and shaking his head with more laughter he departed leaving a stunned Morelli looking at this mysterious item.

"Fucking shit!"

It was the registration strip! He was incredulous. He had to leave. He'd had enough of all this mockery.

Moving out of the Burg and Trenton was necessary after all this backlash especially after his garage was torched with his beloved Ducati. Better to let the dust settle. Stupidly, he was too deep in denial, after all, he did grow up in Chambersburg, aka the Burg, aka Little Egypt, the Land of Denial. He needed to shop elsewhere to avoid scenes like this. Unfortunately, Vinnie's FTAs were in his old stomping grounds. Again, another Catch 22. He rolled his eyes.

That element of autonomy and sometimes respect has disappeared. Pfft. Silly Morelli. Likewise, his sense of security was coming into question.

Vanished.

Kaput.

Gone.

He didn't appreciate the value of his former 'esteemed' position which had basically empowered and enabled him. This position was, of course, in the TPD and also one bolstered by the Burg grapevine. Now that he was _dis_ empowered and _dis_ enabled, Joseph Morelli found the going tough. He had to come up with a new strategy. He'd taken it for granted that the transition would be a piece of cake. How wrong he was. He had not realised how the repercussions of all his misdeeds would obstruct his work, coming back to bite him on the ass. What's more, he did not possess the curiosity and determination that Stephanie had. Yeah, he hated to admit that one. But he used that to his own advantage which had helped him solve some past cases, for which he took the credit, of course.

He was restless, annoyed and impatient. As a result, he went in half-cocked and got his ass kicked. He had no one to delegate the mundane search tasks to and it was becoming tedious. He still used the library since he couldn't afford a computer, let alone the appropriate search engines which he needed. But he needed the money.

Getting only a percentage of the bond was something that rankled him. He tried to argue for a better deal with Vinnie. Morelli felt he deserved more than a measly ten percent, after all, he had experience behind him, police and detective experience.

Connie and Lula heard the loud, feisty discussion behind closed doors and waited with bated breath. They loved a good showdown and this was definitely shaping up to be in the upper leagues. Two hot-headed Italian jerkwads going head to head was promising to be fiery, especially since Vinnie had his ass chewed by Harry the Hammer this morning. Lula was already regretting not buying that popcorn on the way in. They didn't have long to wait. When a furious, red-faced Morelli stormed out of the inner sanctum, Vinnie stalked after him spitting out more scornful vitriol.

"Oh, for Christ's sake! Get that fucking hairy ass outa here already and out there where the money is, Morelli. Your ass is mine. You're bloody lucky that I'm giving you an extra week to prove yourself, you fucking asshole! Money doesn't grow on trees. No fucking skip, no fucking pay cheque! No fucking percentage. Fucking ten percent. You're fucking lucky I'm prepared to take you back and still give you that much! At least Stephanie brought her skips in regularly."

Morelli slammed the front door and it was obvious with his reaction that the Stephanie reference really irritated the shit out of him. He was seething as he settled into his POS tossing the five files on the passenger seat. Connie and Lula were watching wide-eyed yet smugly through the front window. He was so pissed off that he was vibrating with rage. He wanted to hit something, break something, anything.

He yelled at their mocking expressions. He resisted giving them his favourite Italian gestures. He was beyond frustrated.

"Fucking bitches! You got nothing better to do?" He yelled in their direction through his front windscreen.

Stupid and childish but it released some of that pent up rage. Lula and Connie high-fived each other and burst into fits of laughter. He couldn't get out of there fast enough. He started the car up with a loud backfire and a black cloud of exhaust to remove himself from their line of sight. He was getting thoroughly fed up with all these judgements. He needed to compose himself so he could think straight and without a mocking audience. And constantly with those damned cameras!

Still fresh in his mind was the humiliation of being brought in by Jeanne-Ellen as her FTA de jour, in handcuffs, of course. He resented being the laughing stock in the station that he almost missed the money changing hands. He was beyond furious. When they conspicuously videoed and snapped pictures of his shameful entry, his humiliation was complete. And now this here, at the Bonds Office.

So, there's not much love for Morelli in the Burg or in Stark Street and certainly not in the Trenton Police Department. He tried to distract himself with thoughts of his next moves and options to track down his skips. But his bitter thoughts were in his head on a continuous loop.

So … who did put up the bail for him? This burning question was eating at him. Thinking about his connections he hit a brick wall.

After one Stark Street encounter he had succeeded in capturing his skip but it was hard to tell who came off the worst. He was quite beat up, nose bleeding, a black eye blooming and a bruised cheekbone. Scraped knuckles evidently showed he had fought back and looking at his skip, he was not outwardly as beat up but obviously wore the brunt of Morelli's frustration, with kidney punches and such. He always knew how to fight dirty.

At the booking desk he handed his paperwork over to Robin for processing. He wasn't in the mood for smiling and Robin's cold reception warned him not to push his luck. It had been a while between smiles for Morelli. Taking his cheque, he stormed out, ignoring the bystanders and onlookers baiting him. There was nothing to see. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of biting and lose his cool again.

But his frustration was showing. The continuous loop that even disrupted and haunted his sleep popped up again.

Secret benefactor. Anonymous benefactor. Not family. Not friends. Not former work colleagues. Not the Mob … hopefully. Who else is out there?

He braked hard before the intersection and froze.

"Oh no. Shit! Oh fuck no!"

o.o.o

 _TBC_

 _I wonder if Morelli has worked it out. Have you?_

 _I had to chop this chapter because it was too wordy and 5,000 words plus. Too verbose even for my liking._

 _We have the press conference coming up. Oh what fun that will be._

 _Ranger and Stephanie are thoroughly enjoying the peace of paradise. They send their regards and love that you are thinking of them. They've been a bit busy to reciprocate._


	24. Dance Moves

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 24**

 **Dance Moves**

 _The characters you recognise belong to Janet. Miss Dolores, Betty and Michele and any mistakes are mine._

 **o.o.o**

Morelli made sure that he was punctual for his court appearance this time unlike the first time when he missed it altogether. He knew he'd worn the right gear when he caught two young paralegals checking him out. He may have given them a once over and some more, but was interrupted when he was summonsed. Giving them a wink, he swaggered confidently to the designated courtroom and through the doorway.

While the usual initial legal procedures were being completed he only half-listened to the usual drill, thinking he should have given those young paralegals his phone number. He startled when his name was called abruptly.

"Mr Morelli! Pay attention!"

Using his best Italian Stallion charm, cocky and arrogant, he smiled at the Judge like the naughty boy he was.

"No, Ma'am. I mean, Your Honour."

The Judge rolled her eyes, muttering to the bailiff, "Oh, we have a live one here."

Glaring at Morelli she asked him outright, "Does that always work for you? It didn't do anything for me. Cut it out!"

He looked at her, stunned. Oops, way to impress the Judge, Morelli. Not! He shrugged his shoulders feeling ostracised with those sharp scathing words. He risked not answering that rhetorical question.

"This is _my_ court room. You _will_ behave accordingly."

He nodded apologetically with pseudo remorse but was pissed off. His body language radiated his fury and belligerence. Morelli was angry. He was bitter and resentful.

"Yes, Your Honour."

Why were all these women involved in his life, impeding and interfering with his desires, progress and direction? Like now in this court room, his rehabilitation, his sentencing and capture, booking, harassment from the hos even, and, the bane of his life, _Stephanie_?

But, really, all Stephanie did was to deny him. Something he has conveniently forgotten, just a slight oversight in his clouded and warped judgement.

His mother and grandmother were also involved in that line up especially since they disowned him, and a certain Helen Plum to round off the rest of the female contingent who made his life hell. Oh, and of course, let's not forget Joyce Barnhart and Terry Gilman, Connie Rizzoli and Lula, who would also be part of that group. Jeez.

"No." Stephanie had told him. She was his Cupcake. _She was his_. But his warped mind had twisted it into something else completely, leading to his obsession with her. And now he's lucked out again with a _female_ judge.

His face was openly showing his emotions with these thoughts.

"Mr Morelli! You're not listening. Cut the attitude! I will have none of your belligerence and arrogance. _Don't_ waste my time!"

She blank-faced him, not waiting for him to consider her words, and promptly proceeded.

"I understand this is not your first time. Usually you are on the _other_ side of the law. So, I'm going to cut to the chase and spell it out for you. You have three assault charges. Your previous charges have no actual bearing on this hearing. However, should you be stupid enough to add to your burgeoning list after today's proceedings, that would definitely change the circumstances for you since all charges would come to the fore collectively.

Those previous charges have been dealt with since you paid your fines in full, and you have done your community service, albeit incomplete. In addition to your previous convictions, you are bordering on the dangerous edge. As an ex-police officer you do understand the seriousness of your crimes."

He nodded in the affirmative. She glared.

"Yes, Your Honour." He clipped the words through a tight mouth.

She went through the details and he pleaded guilty to all three charges. Representing himself was his only option and he knew he had to cop it on the chin. He did not try to explain beyond mistaken identity. That was an unacceptable and pathetic excuse. She was a no-nonsense Judge Judy type and after his initial faux pas, he considered it best to keep it straightforward and simple. He accepted the fines and the compliance orders for more Anger Management and to complete the Alcoholics Anonymous course without question or argument but inwardly he was infuriated to have to go through all that again.

But there was an extra provisional component to his sentence.

The Judge leaned forward and called him to approach the bench. She looked at him sternly and handed him a business card.

" _This_ , is non-negotiable."

He nodded again a little confused but did not take his eyes off her face. Smart man, Morelli.

"You understand the seriousness of these charges, Mr Morelli. Don't even consider avoiding your legal obligations. I will not go lightly on you since you understand the law very well. Contact these people. It's your choice, or jail time will be your next destination if you flout the law and appear in my court room, no option. I don't need to remind you about police in jails, do I?"

He shook his head vigorously.

"Call it community service, since your first stint was not completed in full. It was a requirement of your bail being posted by your benefactor. This is not a game here, Mr Morelli. I expect to hear from my contact that you have been in touch and made arrangements for your interview and induction before the end of this week."

"Induction, Ma'am? Er, Your Honour."

"It will all be explained to you, when you make contact. You will be able to continue working as a bail bonds enforcer in the meantime."

 **o.o.o**

A woman with a gravelly two-packets-a-day voice and a take no shit attitude, took his call. She minced no words. She gave him the time and address and what she expected him to wear: jeans, boots, belt with a buckle and a plaid shirt over a t-shirt. Before he could ask any questions she had already dismissed him and hung up. He glared at his phone shaking his head.

"Another fucking Bitch," he muttered.

As she walked around him she prodded him with her walking stick. He resented the 'appraisal' as she called it.

"Stand up. Turn around." She nodded approvingly.

"Walk to the wall and back."

More nodding.

"Yeah, good ass. Good in jeans."

Morelli was stunned. I'm not for sale. I'm not in a meat market. He's been told he has the best ass in Trenton and she says, "Good"?

"Honey you'll do as your told. It's work for me and save your ass, or you're off to the pokey next time. Sit. You can call me Miss Dolores, Dolores or Mrs Bell."

Yikes. He must have said that out loud.

"Do you dance?"

"Dance? Well, er, what do you mean?"

"Boot scooting."

Oh, fuck! He should have guessed by her attire. He rolled his eyes which earned him a swift whack upside the head before he sat.

"I'll have none of that crap! Sit up straight and don't give me any of that surly belligerence. You're a chauvinist who thinks he's God's gift to women. I bet you were a cherry popper in your senior years."

Morelli was speechless. How do you answer a question like that? Fuck. Have they read a secret file on him? She did say no messing with her. Firmly tapping his jaw to close it, she wasted no time getting her profile up to date and confirmed. She was adept at reading people. Idiots like Morelli were so predictable and readable. Taking him out of his comfort zone is going to be necessary and so much fun.

"Do you have any children?"

He gasped at the left field question. What the fuck?

"Hm. Maybe none that you know of, yet. Well, when you do, I hope they are all girls. Maybe then you'll understand some of life's realities and consequences."

That he wasn't expecting any of this had his head in a whirl. Shit. She's besting him with her interrogation.

"Oh, yes. You are that transparent. Snap out of it. I'll ask again. Do you dance?"

She eyed him with a mind reading glare, as if she could penetrate that macho bigoted brain of his before she continued. She was enjoying this. Men like Morelli with their misogyny and chauvinism were her favourites to kick some ass and ream them a new one.

"Right. By your expression I'm guessing that you will need a refresher course to polish your steps. I need you proficient so you're not gonna stand out like dog's balls. Right, let's go. _Michele_!"

Miss Dolores meant _immediately_ as she tapped her stick impatiently. He was not very excited about that. She clipped him upside the head and poked him in the chest while he was thinking if he knew any Michele's and whether she was a brunette or blonde, or even a redhead.

"Sort your shit out, Morelli. I may be small but I can kick your ass. Black belt. Tae kwon do. Kendo master as well. Are we clear?"

She pointed to the spectacular wall display and the evidence was there behind her desk. Photos and trophies, kendo armour and helmet, bamboo swords, a formidable array. Impressive. She led him to the studio area.

"Now, you're going to show me how you can move your hips. Then we might work on your _social_ skills. I bet your Mommy obviously let you get away with everything and made excuses for you. If I'm not happy, sister Betty won't be either. Make it snappy. Your decision."

Before he could respond, she turned to set the music and greeted Michele as he walked into the studio.

Oh fuck. No. _Not_ the kind of Michele Morelli was expecting. Michele was tall and tanned with long black hair pulled into a ponytail, and piercing green eyes when he removed his aviator sunglasses while flashing a winning smile. He knew darn well what Morelli was expecting and he winked at Miss Dolores. His denim jeans were ripped and trendy and ran down long legs to fancy red leather boots. His body was ripped too, although it was covered in a black t-shirt and a black leather jacket. He put his motorbike helmet on the bench.

Morelli groaned. Was it the black hair? The ponytail? Was it the black t-shirt with the black leather jacket? That was a no-brainer. All the above, reminding him pointedly of someone he'd rather not think about. He instantly disliked Michele and scowled. But the best was yet to come.

Michele flashed a knowing grin and winked at him.

"Mm-mm. Miss Dolores. He's mighty fine. Cute ass, too. But does he know how to move it?"

"What the fuck, man!" Morelli's mute button had totally malfunctioned.

Michele gave Morelli a quick sharp upside to the head.

"Language, Pretty Boy."

He ignored Morelli dismissively as he turned around to take his jacket off to hang on the coat hook above the bench. Yep. Definitely ripped as his guns were on display while he tightened his ponytail. Morelli just about choked when he recognised the distinctive frog skeleton and trident tattoo on his flexed bicep. A Navy SEAL. Fuck. Could it get any worse? His other forearm was decorated with a bold snake seemingly wrapped around his arm and wrist.

"Watch Michele as he moves through the first series of steps. Watch his feet. Listen to the music and feel the beat."

Miss Dolores had to use her 'cattle prod' stick to snap Morelli back to the present from his self-induced haze of hatred.

The next hour went surprisingly quickly after a slow yet belligerent start. Morelli needed a few more kick starts and Dolores soon had him moving his ass with her 'cattle prod'. Lucky for Morelli it wasn't charged. She called the steps and counted. She demonstrated in smooth slow motion for Morelli while Michele stood behind him, hands on his hips to direct his swivels, turns and twists. He clenched his jaw tight. God, was he pissed off!

"Get used to it, Sweet Cheeks. You need to loosen up."

Every day for an hour he was expected to attend one-on-one sessions with Michele until he could join the group with the line moves later on. It took all of the first week for him to loosen up enough to feel the music. He was ready to learn a new routine by then. He was getting the hang of it. Miss Dolores could see he had potential but that chip on his shoulder needed more work and time.

By the end of the second week, Morelli had three routines but still needed the calls but only in some sections. He was relieved to hear that the calls would be made at the events. Events? More than one? By the third week he was joining the group sessions to get the feel of the line dance better.

Each time he tried to get more specific details he was shut down by both Michele and Dolores. Michele was being deliberately obtuse, Dolores evasive. She dismissed him at the end of each session – no time for chit chat. She was all business.

One thing Dolores did let slip. Betty was her sister and had advised her that she may have found a possible candidate to assist with their distractions.

"Betty? Whose Betty? Is she another dancer?" Confusion. "And you mentioned distractions?"

"Sit your ass down," and she handed him a bottle of water.

"Betty, my sister, is _Elizabeth_ Horne."

She let that sink in. Thinking … Light bulb.

"Elizabeth Horne? As in _Judge_ Elizabeth Horne?"

She grinned at his shock.

"Shit. I mean. Sorry. I didn't know that. And the distractions? What's that all about?"

"Let's get something out in the open from the outset. Judge Betty is firm and straight, and not in for a soft serve of discipline. You mess with her when she's been prepared to go out on a limb for you, she'll have your balls for breakfast. You mess with her, you mess with me. We like pretty much the same things. None of your smarmy Italian charm is going to impress. You have a job to do. You dance and you distract."

"Okay. Sisters. Got that. I'm very attached to my body parts. But distract?"

"In the next few weeks we are preparing for the Fall Break. Dress code you already know. You'll need two more items, a cowboy hat and a silver belt buckle. The belt buckle is significant as you will recognise other staff involved in the distractions. You have already met them in the group sessions."

On cue the other team members came into the conference room and were encouraged to gather round and be inducted further.

"Your job is to dance and assist by modelling the steps at the head of the lines without actually teaching per se. I will be the caller; you will be the watchers while you dance. There will be _no handling of the clientele_. Some of these young people may become 'handsy' or frisky but you _will_ be totally above board. Again, NO fraternising."

"Copy that."

"Don't get smart Joseph. We run the boot scooting at the taverns in New Brunswick. You are to assist, engage in dancing to protect the young men and women, mostly freshmen, many of whom come from Rutgers, Busch campus and Cook/Douglas campus."

"Okay. But what is the issue?" asked one of the other team members.

"Predators, sexual predators have been entering our safe domain. We have security and cameras but these security personnel cannot be on the dance floor because they would be too obvious and conspicuous."

"Security."

Morelli said this as a statement and he felt a bit wary yet curious. The word instantly sent a shiver up his spine.

"Cameras in the parking lot. The entrance lobby and the exit doors and the passage leading to the bathrooms are also monitored with cameras. We often have two security staff at the bar, encouraging refreshments. Water is free and we encourage them to keep hydrated. They can see the whole dance floor from the bar which is a few steps higher so we are using that to our advantage. There are two doormen who check their IDs and give a heads up to the team inside. Everyone has comms but you are probably familiar with those. There is an age limit so we don't allow older people in as these events are for the freshmen. No ID, no entry. We turn suspicious patrons away.

We are trying to maintain a safe environment. The problem is that we have _cougars_ targeting the young guns who are such easy prey but who are also propositioned by men. We also have older guys in their twenties targeting the young ladies. They lure them with the offer of alcohol and drugs and the temptation of sex. Or the first two but sex will be their ultimate goal, but it's rape. We'll be closely monitoring for drink spiking. Ultimately, these young freshmen are soft targets for seasoned perps. This is a joint task force with the New Brunswick police.

Many of these freshmen are young and naïve, their first time in the city and very vulnerable. In other words, soft targets, virgins in every aspect and easily sweet-talked by a smooth operator. These sexual predators are not much older than the freshmen. Some of them act as lures to entice them outside where they are more vulnerable. This is a new tactical strategy.

Other college students can come and have been to events before, when we were made aware of the issues but only the tip of the iceberg were reported. There is a new culture of predation and using the information from older college students, we have created this strategy. Getting some of these college students to admit to being raped, especially the young men, was one of the hardest hurdles to overcome. Counselling was provided and health checks as well.

All the campus deans are in support of this and since we initiated these clubs, we have four taverns which we rotate to provide a safe place for these young people to enjoy themselves, alcohol free."

The new team dancers acknowledged their understanding.

"Miss Dolores? How are we to react? What do you expect from us?" asked one of the women.

"I'm glad you asked that, Lily. You will dance and take up different positions on the dance floor. Get to know each other and recognise your team. When we suspect a compromised client your task is to intervene in a manner that is subtle. You'll all have comms and will hear the security discussions. We are on the lookout for roofies and when one of the young freshmen starts acting drunk you are to make a beeline and offer to assist with their 'companion'. I will be on the comms and suggest who does the distraction or intervention to avoid flooding the scene and compromising our roles.

The perp will likely say he or she knows where they live and can drive them home. You can assist but not arrest. You can 'assist' them to the exit, _front_ exit at all times. As they go through the exit door, security will cuff them and the EMTs will treat the victim and if necessary, take them to hospital for tests.

These perps are smooth so don't be duped by their charm. I'm sure you are familiar with that sort. Con men and women who have excellent social skills and can be very disarming, so be aware and sharp at all times. We suspect that some may work in teams. Beware of diversionary tactics and that is why we have so many eyes on and around the floor. Your background skill set make you ideal candidates for this task force. Your dancing should be automatic by then. Your duties are not for public discussion. Understand. We don't want to compromise this task force before we get it off the ground and during the course of the events."

She paused to take a sip from her water bottle.

"Working distractions will be easy with your experience and you can distract the suspicious perps by making conversation and coerce them to the doors with an offer of a good time or sharing your shady pictures of your alleged conquests. You'll work it out. Wing it. These security personnel will make us wary of suspected perps and your job is to observe, distract and intervene by offering pseudo assistance."

By the time the first event arrived, the team had practised a variety of scenarios at their rehearsals and various approaches that might work. They took turns and felt ready to use their dancing skills as well as their observation and interception techniques. An air of anticipation filled the room amongst the team members as they scanned the dance floor and the surrounds.

Morelli cast his eyes around the room. These freshmen were so very young, definitely soft targets. He felt pleased to be working in this capacity.

"Well lookie-lookie. Heads up peeps."

Morelli froze.

 **o.o.o**

 _TBC_

 _Could things get any worse?_

 _And so the hijacking continues. I hope you're enjoying the ride. I am._

 _Next chapter is devoted to the community meeting._


	25. Repercussions and Shockwaves

**Making Moves**

 **Repercussions and Shock Waves**

 **Chapter 25**

 _The characters you recognise belong to JE. I'm just adding to their lives vicariously. The plot and any mistakes are mine._

 **o.o.o**

Restlessness and discontent would best describe the gloomy atmosphere on the streets of Chambersburg. Children were called inside early; doors were locked and checked; and curtains and blinds were drawn despite being so house proud. Fear and anxiety were in the mix as well and remarkably, an element of denial. These people just didn't get it. They're discontent would soon be replaced with agitation in addition to the fear and anxiety.

"Surely this couldn't be happening in _our_ neighbourhood. Why _us_ all of a sudden? We are good people, God-fearing, church-going Christians."

These thoughts were accompanied with haughty arrogance. Being Christian, of course, inferred being Catholic, mostly Roman Catholic. Going to church and being see at church does not a better Christian make. That they had the audacity to admit to being Christians when much of their behaviour was most un-Christian-like was such a huge contradiction to how they lived. But there were many who were genuinely Christian in their daily lives and ethics.

However, within this neighbourhood, old traditions had been deeply instilled. They were so tunnel-visioned that frankly, they couldn't see the wood for the trees and, as such, had absolved themselves of any wrongdoing or short-sightedness. They were so pathetically oblivious to the rest of Trenton and how the recent increase in crime was mild in comparison to other neighbourhoods. The resurgence of this unexpected crime wave was challenging to their bubble existence. How quickly they had forgotten that Chambersburg had not always been a crime free zone. They became complacent and ignorant to the rest of the world and assumed that Chambersburg must be the norm or superior in some way.

Rumours and misinformation were commonplace in this neighbourhood. Casting aspersions on others while covering their own asses, was a common yet popular pastime in Chambersburg. Not unlike emotional blackmail, they preyed on guilt and TMI. That some people purportedly seemed to know all the details gave them this notorious yet ridiculous authority over others, even though they had undoubtedly embellished the 'facts'. They were the New Order of the Bitter Bitches of the Burg, the leading gossipmongers who fed the grapevine. News travelled fast, especially bad news about others who had fallen from grace or defied Burg principles. This was not an exclusively women's domain since it is a well-known and proven fact, that men can gossip just as harshly as well. But these enabled gossipmongers held the power.

Many Chambersburg people had gathered at the VFW Hall expecting the public meeting announcements to be made there since it was the hub of their neighbourhood, where many major events happened. Weddings and engagement parties, christenings and other important Burg celebrations were made there. So, logically, the community meeting would be there too, or so they thought. Members of the community did discuss and compare recent events and the sudden crime wave was at the forefront fuelling their nervous discussions.

Realising that individually, they were not alone, in these awful experiences, was somewhat heartening though not really reassuring. Only when they realised how widespread these incidents were and that they alone, were not some random target, did they finally concede that there was a real problem, a bigger problem than they were willing to concede.

While the Women's Auxiliary Club had organised coffee, tea, cake and biscuits, home-made of course, the Chambersburg residents gathered in groups and shared their experiences some more. For a change there was genuine concern for the each other and even their 'subordinates'. No one was trying to outdo anyone, no one-upmanship … although, Sally Glowacski's car break-in was apparently far worse than Geneva Szabo's. _Go figure._ For the most, they commiserated with each other and a new ethic started to emerge. They decided that a neighbourhood watch system would be good: keeping an eye on each other's property and doing neighbourly things like putting out the bins if someone was away from home or collecting their mail.

All this camaraderie and community spirit was suddenly interrupted as all their phones chirped, pinged or dinged with a message from the Mayor and the TPD: _The community meeting and press conference is being conducted at 2:30pm outside City Hall._ Very quickly paper cups and plates were binned and chairs stacked to the side of the hall as everyone made preparations to head to the City Hall.

Mutterings of, "It's about time.", and "Better late than never.", and "Finally they are going to solve this disgraceful problem.", followed them out the door to the parking lot. Some car-pooled to minimise parking problems at the other end and because many had walked to the VFW Hall. There was no urgency but they were keen to get a good position. It's still all about location, location, location. Position still holds the benchmark. Being in the right position was always important to them.

Morelli was leaving the TPD after bringing in another FTA and upon seeing the message ping with the Trenton News app, he decided to wander over to see for himself what all the fuss was about. Leaving his conspicuously graffiti-ed, newly scribed Wanker Wagon in the parking lot seemed like a good idea. Besides, his new boots could use some more running-in anyway. With his usual swagger he rounded the corner and was surprised to see so many Burg folks already waiting, with still more arriving, even though it was another thirty-five minutes to go.

He noticed the Trenton Times reporters arriving and competing for vantage points with the TV news media team as they unloaded the van with all the broadcasting equipment. Watching the news presenter with the microphone doing their angle and sound checks was mildly entertaining. Must be something big, he thought. He was curious but outwardly he wore his well-practised cop face. Since cop face was no longer relevant for an ex-cop, he wore his blank face.

There was a distinctive restless buzz as Morelli scanned the crowd, staying further back leaning against a pole in the shade of a large tree, as he surveyed the scene before him. Remaining inconspicuous in the shadows was his intention. He certainly did not want any attention drawn to him. He had had more than his full share, thanks to Stephanie Plum. JoMo was still in denial.

Even though it wasn't that sunny, his sunglasses gave him a degree of anonymity and helped him hide. His roving eye was simultaneously checking for any of his skips since he had a couple of local skips to nab. His roving eye also checked out the ladies and he grinned. He'll never learn but his luck could change at any time.

A few double-takes were an indication that they had not recognised him at first glance as more Chambersburg residents came to the Trenton City Hall. Others also did the double-take only to quickly avert their eyes in disgust when they realised who he was. The third contingent of double-takers eyed him some more and liked what they saw. He had that dangerous look about him which he used to his advantage. He looked fitter and stronger, and very badass. Was it his ripped jeans and boots that caught the roving eyes of the ladies? His beard and longer unkempt hair were part of his new image. But there was no mistaking that fine ass in those sexy jeans and he worked it. That inflated ego, along with his conceit and vanity, still prevailed.

While observing the scene, he dipped into various conversations, picking up on their concerns and fears and chuckling at their whispered, "Did you see who that was? Joseph Morelli." His smile quickly disappeared when he heard, "You mean Joe Blow," mentioned with disgust and contempt. Hearing Valerie's voice made him turn immediately and track her, hoping that Stephanie might be nearby.

"I can't believe they broke into my minivan. It's not a flash car, but not only did they break the side window, they nearly pulled the sliding door off the runner and now it won't close properly. That's going to cost extra dollars to repair that I can't spare _and_ a new baby seat." Valerie described.

"It's not like I have anything of value in there, but Angie left the iPad on the back seat. They nicked the baby seat as well! What's with that?"

Morelli raised his eyebrows in surprise at that. It was not what he expected to hear.

"Oh no, Val. That stinks. They broke into Jenna's car too and stole her son's bicycle from the back of the wagon. She had to pick him up from school early because he was sick, so she bundled his bike in the back. No windows smashed thankfully but they wrecked the back door with a crowbar and now it won't shut properly," Maggie Kovack related.

"Yeah. We were not so lucky either," added Sue-Ellen Bellini. "Seb had left his wallet in the glove box. We found the doors wide open and the glove box compartment had been rifled through. Seb had _not_ locked the car. That was our grocery money and dollars for electric and the car payment. He's in the shit now. That he lost the six pack of beers is his own damn fault. If he'd unpacked the car properly it probably wouldn't have happened."

Izzy Marchesi joined them and said to Valerie, "I have a spare baby seat, so don't you go buying one. You can have it."

"Oh, thanks, Izzy, I appreciate that so much."

And the ladies continued closer to the main crowd now gathering in number.

Car break-ins? He shrugged his shoulders. No biggie. But as he kept dipping into the passing conversations, he started to see a pattern with the escalating crimes in his old neighbourhood. Burglaries, car break-ins, joy riding, muggings and more. He wondered if his Mom was alright.

Helen Plum was pulling her shopping trolley and she was rattled. She'd only sat down to have a rest on the bench near the train station parking lot when Eula Rothridge took umbrage. No way was someone taking over _her_ bench, Eula had yelled, doing her best to make a scene. Helen came away quickly, feeling flustered. As she rounded the corner she wondered why there were so many people near the City Hall and was almost knocked down by Angie Morelli pushing her grumpy mother in a wheelchair. Before Helen could fall into Bella's lap, she was hit by the cane Bella was wielding wildly and side-stepped out of range instead.

"Mama! Behave. You can't be hitting people … Oh. Helen."

Surprise.

"Angie."

Shock.

Monosyllabic greetings were not part of their usual manner of greeting. They were both caught off guard. Curious eyes watched the two ladies interact in an unexpected way. Bella was ignored by the two denounced Queen Bees of the Burg Grapevine. No smiles. Not even a pleased to see you. Just frozen and stunned.

Angie was the first to recover as her Burg manners kicked in after that momentary shock.

"How have you been, Helen? You look better than I expected."

Helen knew exactly what she implied by that last remark but she wasn't taking offence. Pride still prevailed. She looked neat but not as upright and haughty any more. She'd had her share of falls lately and they had been extremely costly. However, Angie was right, of course.

"I can honestly say, a lot better. Thank you, Angie. A lot better since we last saw each other. How are you faring?"

But Helen was not able to return the same compliment to Angie. She looked lean and shattered but she still had her pride intact, holding herself upright but with a distinct weariness.

"I'm okay. Same as before as you can see."

Angie shook her head while looking pointedly at her mother who was making rude Italian arm gestures to passers-by who dared to stare. She shrugged her shoulders. Bella was trying to keep moving but Angie felt compelled to stay despite the finger pointing and knowing looks. They laughed at Bella's feeble and uncoordinated attempts to give them the eye. Perhaps it was the big-ass bib she wore for the constant dribbling. Sneers and rolling eyes showed their contempt for the unwelcome trio.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them as Helen and Angie ignored the onlookers while they considered their recent turmoils and current existence.

Helen had suffered through withdrawals and had resumed her Alcoholics Anonymous sessions after a massive reality check. For a spell she had really fallen off the wagon. Finding herself homeless and sleeping on a vacated bench was something that shook her to the core. But it was the terror in being mugged for her measly possessions which became the most confronting turning point in her life - another one to add to her list.

A good Samaritan had taken her to the hospital and had arranged for a survival care package which included some 'new' second-hand clothes, a pair of shoes, some underwear and a bag of personal items and toiletries. She was taken to the homeless shelter where they warned her about her previous drunken behaviour and she was put on notice. She obeyed all their rules and conditions, and with regular visits from her sponsor, the good Samaritan, Betty, Helen was able to clean up her act.

A rather meek and compliant Helen Plum was a new image and presently, it was more than just a front. She was mortified to discover she'd been sleeping on a park bench; such was the decline into her bottle existence. She had known and seen Eula for years and that was another shock, that she was becoming, or had become just like Eula. But the mugging was the most shattering and frightening experience in her entire life. Her recovery was ensured with those terrifying experiences. Never ever did she want to put herself in such a dangerous predicament. The AA meetings were finally taking effect and, remarkably, Helen Mazur Plum no longer gave a damn about what others thought. Fear can do that and hitting rock bottom was her hardest lesson. She was still very traumatised.

Angie Morelli's life in the meantime was miserable. There was no escape for her, no respite, no change other than her mother's condition becoming progressively worse. Her children were busy with their own lives or had been exiled. Admitting that she missed her Joey's visits was quickly brushed aside because he brought so much shame and condemnation to their lives. He was on his own. She washed her hands off him. He'd walked the fine line too many times and he blew it to smithereens, his reputation but also _her_ reputation and status. Conceding that her own actions had also compounded her demise as well as her liaison with Helen Plum, was bitter pill to swallow.

She prayed for him and she prayed he wouldn't go the same path as his father. Her remorse showed on her face and her body language. The heavy burden of being alone, caring for her ailing, cantankerous mother, gave her no rest. Many a night she cried. Her life had become a depressing life sentence of misery and relentless deprivation of being her own person. Those blissful episodes of peace while her mother napped during the day, were what kept her sane. But she remained the devoted and dutiful daughter.

Angie had reflected on her decision to evict Helen from her home without regret or remorse. Having lived with an abusive drunkard all her married life until he died, had her constantly chastising herself for enabling Helen when they shared a couple of bottles of red wine on the front porch. It seemed so long ago. She should have known better. It was a moment of weakness especially that tangible need for companionship. Now she was alone but her resolve was firm.

Helen was not abusive but she was an alcoholic. She knew all the signs. Part of Helen's conditional release after charges had been laid was attending AA for the entire course. Helen had taken advantage of her friendship, her charity, her trust and especially her goodwill. It was wonderful, yes wonderful, to have her friendship and that precious support with her onerous duties. Being able to talk with a friend who remembered the conversation five minutes later was something she still craved. Alas, Helen had shot that element of hope to hell and back. Her life was hell but there was _no way_ that she would ever rescind her decision.

Going to church regularly during the week was an excursion which Bella did enjoy and brought Angie a glimmer of peace. It was calming and soothing for Bella and when the sun shone through the stained glass windows, she seemed in a trance of wondrous awe. Thank heavens for small blessings. Keeping her beside the front pew on Sundays, kept the other parishioners out of Bella's line of sight and allowed Father Mateusz to get on with the sermon with minimal disruption. His deep resonant voice and singing the hymns also kept Bella relaxed. Other necessary excursions were fraught with drama and humiliation for Angie. Simple tasks like grocery shopping was just like taking a tantrum-throwing toddler. Try as she might, it was never a quick shop. To overcome this dreadful and exhausting scenario, she went at non-peak times to minimise encountering too many people. Going more frequently for smaller shopping runs made it more manageable but it was still tedious always having Bella in tow. She hated her life. This was not living.

As she was casting her wary glance over the crowd she caught her son's eye. He looked concerned for her and there was regret on his face. She shook her head and turned away. Helen and Angie separated placing some distance between them.

The podium was set for the Mayor with a lectern, microphones, and the national and state flags strategically placed behind.

The crowd had become restless and the people were getting noisy and impatient. When the Mayor appeared, on time, with the Chief of Police and other members of the law enforcement him, angry hecklers started in on him with sarcasm and defiance.

"About time!"

It didn't matter that it was precisely the designated time.

"What the hell are you doing about this crime rate Mr Mayor? We've had a gutful!"

"Why has nothing been done for our neighbourhood? Shame on you!"

"Our streets are no longer safe. Druggies have taken over and our lives are threatened!"

"Our lives have been hell. What are the cops doing? Sitting on their fat asses while we suffer?"

That did not go down too well. Many knew that the police had been kept busy and felt this last comment was unwarranted and undeserving.

But the podium personnel remained unaffected and stoic, seemingly ignoring these taunts and rebukes.

The Mayor waited but it was people within the crowd who silenced them. They wanted to hear what the Mayor had to say and how their lives could resume a safe existence as before. That was a big ask.

"Thank you all for coming to this community meeting. We are all concerned with the increase in crime in your neighbourhood. I have confirmation from the Governor that a special task force with the army and other law enforcement agencies will go in to physically remove the drug scene and sex workers who have taken over your neighbourhood at night. The recent explosions as a result of a couple of meth labs warrants immediate action."

Murmurs of consent and relief accompanied these comments.

"I would like to acknowledge my appreciation of our Trenton Police Department for their ongoing hard work in monitoring and maintaining control of this crime wave. We are doing our best with limited resources. The Governor has supported my request for increased man power and overtime to help deal with the initial overload. They are hardworking conscientious people, many of whom have families in your Chambersburg. Your patience and support is appreciated."

A few discontented mutterings rumbled through the crowd but remained subdued.

"On behalf of the TPD and all our law enforcement agencies I would like to express my sincere thanks to the Rangeman Company, Ranger Mañoso in particular, for their dedication and diligence in keeping our Trenton community safe."

This was met with outrage and loud jeering.

"Those thugs and criminals?!"

"They're mercenaries."

"I heard they were hired assassins!"

"Why aren't you investigating them?"

"Have you arrested them already? Is that why we haven't seen them around lately?"

The Mayor held his hand up.

"First and foremost, you need to get your facts straight people. Who told you those things? How can you say that?"

Grumbles and disgusted mutterings.

"One of Trenton's finest. One of your own cops. And we all know and heard about their dangerous behaviour."

Amid the outrage there were giggles from a group of ladies.

"Dangerous alright. Scary too. That Mañoso can put his boots under my bed any time!"

"He and his men look _mighty_ fine to me. Bulging muscles and those tight …"

"Ahem! Ladies!"

The Mayor frowned and silenced their objectification of the Rangeman team.

"Your sources are misinformed and very wrong. I ask you again, where do these notions come from?"

Heads swivelled around the crowd and people moved aside pointing at Morelli at the back and also at his mother, Angie and Helen Plum over to the side, all trying unsuccessfully to be inconspicuous. Morelli felt the intensity of their admonishment. Helen and Angie were like two startled, sad and aging gazelles. Bella tried muttering her ancient Italian curses which were lost in translation and her dementia, so she resorted to the crude hand gestures.

The Mayor shook his head and spoke with contempt.

"Well. There you go. Misinformation from a disgraced former police officer who was filled with jealousy and hatred for these fine men. Criminals and thugs, you say? Shame on you people. I am very disappointed in you and your narrow-mindedness.

Obviously you did not read the welcome message in my Mayor's report nearly four years ago when I welcomed Rangeman to Trenton. This is the 21st century people. Get with the program. I can't believe you people. If _he_ told you the Pope was from Mars, would you also believe him?"

The Mayor said this with utter contempt as he pointed sternly at Morelli.

"Let me tell you some facts. Rangeman is a company of fine honourable men. You should be thankful that they chose to establish their business here in Trenton. You should bow down and ask for their forgiveness. Again. Shame on you! They are all Vets. Ranger Mañoso and his men are highly decorated soldiers, Army Rangers, Navy SEALs, _and_ Special Forces.

Many of these men have done multiple tours and deployments to some of the worst hell holes you couldn't possibly imagine and some are still in active service. Did you even think to say, 'Thank you for your service to our country.'? I didn't think so."

The look of shock and embarrassment rippled through the crowd followed by disgusted glares at the shameful trio.

Eddie Gazarra stepped up to the lectern with a nod from the Chief. The mayor stepped aside and allowed him to hit the home run, metaphorically speaking.

"As many of you know, I grew up in the Burg and my family still lives there."

Nods of recognition from the crowd. He continued.

"Let me tell you something else. For nearly four years you have lived in relative safety in your little pocket of Trenton. For nearly four years now, Rangeman has set up an exceptionally successful business in Trenton as bounty hunters, for capturing FTAs, failure to appear in court, bond absconders, and also security. I hope you can count.

Because of their hard work, it enabled us, as your police force, to get on with policing. Thanks to the indifference of Vincent Plum, a well-known bail bondsman, many criminals, _real_ _thugs and_ _criminals,_ are back on the streets when some should _never_ have been bonded in the first place. Thanks Vinnie!"

Yes, Vincent Plum was there and was shocked to be singled out. He sneered at the angry glares but tried to skulk away like the weasel he was. The crowd was surrounded by a number of TPD officers, stationed strategically near the exits, and especially close to Morelli, Angie, Helen Plum and now Vinnie, so they couldn't sneak away. Face the music, it was. Vinnie saw that he was trapped.

"Have you done the Maths yet? This might help. For nearly _four_ years, your neighbourhood of Chambersburg has been under a protection order from Rangeman. Your complacency and ignorance were your folly.

But here's the real kicker. Do you know why? Before _Mister_ Morelli took over the front page of the Trenton Times and a double spread on page four and five, who was your favourite target? Stephanie Plum. Because of Stephanie, Ranger put out a protection order to protect Stephanie and her family and friends. Yes, in your precious Burg. Because of the disgraceful treatment of Stephanie and the contempt you repeatedly displayed towards Rangeman, they have packed up and left Trenton.

You had your very own protection detail and screwed up. They left. No more protection. Have you worked it out yet people? That is the difference they made to your lives. They have departed and you suffered the consequences and have to deal with the repercussions. I feel embarrassed. Because of the contempt, abuse and mistreatment you showed towards Stephanie and Rangeman, you lost the best _free_ security which, frankly, you didn't deserve."

"Thank you Officer Gazarra. My advice to you is to organise your own security. If you have insurance, then go through those channels to make your claims. The TPD will work its utmost to clean up the streets but you people have some serious thinking to do. My police force is here to serve the community, of which Chambersburg is a small part. You will show respect to my staff and support them. The loss of Rangeman is immeasurable. Our loss will be someone else's gain, _if_ they choose to continue in the same vein.

Thank you everyone.

I will not be answering any further questions. My team has a big job to do and answering your questions is secondary to our role in making Trenton safe again."

The Mayor and all the personnel on the podium turned around and entered City Hall. The crowd stood there, some with their heads hung down. They were stunned with all this new information and many felt ashamed of their involvement.

Our Burg stirrers and the NOBBB (New Order of the bitter Bitches of the Burg) surreptitiously crept away. Quietly and despondently the crowd dispersed amid sighs and shaking their heads at all these revelations.

o.o.o

 _TBC_

 _Touché!_

 _In the meantime, in a warm, sunny place in the Caribbean, our loved up couple have obtained and filled out the necessary paperwork so they can marry after the eight day waiting period to make it all official._

 _; )_


	26. The Irony

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 26**

 **The Irony**

 _The characters you recognise belong to Janet. Any mistakes and the plot are mine._

 **o.o.o**

 **At City Hall, Trenton**

"Well. I think that went rather well. Don't you think, Chief?"

"To be honest, it did, to a degree. They heard you but I don't think they were really listening, Sir. Or, they were listening but they didn't _hear_ what was said. Either way, it was in one ear and out the other, you know. They are so embroiled in their own little world that they cannot see the big picture. They only listened to what was relevant to them. But Eddie, _you_ nailed it."

"Thank you, Sir. But it was like talking to a brick wall towards the end. They just don't get it or don't like to be told and, until they take some responsibility for their own actions, nothing much will change. Between being blameless and casting aspersions on others, like children in a school yard, the blame is always on someone else. Such is their denial."

They all nodded in agreement. He was right.

"Well, I give them a week to overcome the shock and awe. They'll resume their lives where they left off. It seems to give them this weird sense of 'security'. Ironic, huh? They're stuck in a proverbial rut and I think it's a fear of change. Now that they have overcome the initial shock of this new crime wave, they will go about their normal daily lives as if nothing changed."

"Yes, Eddie. I agree, you _did_ do a great job. And those little home truths at the grass roots level got a strong response especially coming from you being a local boy. Nice touch. I was surprised that Vinnie and Morelli were there and they were visibly bothered by the crowd's reaction. And with Helen Plum, Angie Morelli and her witchy mother Bella, being there too, that was the icing on the cake. I know those three have been severely ostracised by the Burg but these Chambersburg folks are a tough nut to crack. Morelli's are not very popular it seems."

"Did you see that smug look on Morelli's face? You'd think that after having his face, and other parts, plastered all over the front page of the Trenton Times would have subdued him. It's a wonder he dared to show his face at all."

"He's in denial. Cocky bastard. We only see him when he brings in a skip or when he had to front up to court. Stupid dickhead still blames Stephanie and Rangeman. He's moved out of this neighbourhood. Good riddance to bad rubbish."

"Ironic how he and Vinnie are in cahoots. Well, not cahoots, per se. Vinnie employing Morelli. Weird but then, Morelli was desperate for work and there was very little option for him. And the same went for Vinnie, desperate to have someone, _anyone_ to replace Stephanie and Rangeman. They deserve each other."

"I'd say their connection was more like shit attracts shit!"

 **o.o.o**

Helen sadly watched Angie walk away pushing her obstreperous mother who was still performing crude signs and swearing loudly in Italian. She had been hopeful that maybe Angie might change her mind after seeing her today. Early days, perhaps. Obviously, her hands were full, now more than ever. Bella was her cross to bear. Helen couldn't help but feel sorry for her friend. She sighed and walked away in another direction pulling her covered shopping trolley behind her.

Helen recalled Angie's firm harsh words when they were last together in the same space. Losing her trust, her companionship and her charity was such a blow to Helen that she sank lower than ever before. She drank herself into oblivion to numb the pain, the fear and the loss.

After a difficult withdrawal period, Betty, her sponsor, allowed her to talk when she was ready and she listened patiently. Betty helped her redirect her life and encouraged her to resume attending AA sessions, on her own volition. Being her sponsor was not about making decisions for her or telling her what to do. The decisions were made by Helen and the consequences were hers to own and accept, or deny. The fact that she decided to move forward was encouraging and bode well for her recovery.

Dutifully she attended her AA sessions especially after the park bench episode and the encounter with Eula. It frightened her to think how she had compromised her own safety and put herself in such grave danger. The mugging still gives her nightmares. Never had she believed her life could hit such a terrifying low.

The horror still gives her tremors of fear, which they quizzed her about in AA. Denial again they thought. But she explained to the group, after a couple of cynical participants doubted her, how it still gives her heart-stopping moments and the impending panic attack that comes with the shuddering. She never, _ever_ wants to be in that situation again. That was completely truthful. It was a major turning point in her recovery. Nonetheless, it was the thunderbolt that Helen needed to jolt her out of her denial. But it wasn't going to be that simple.

She knew what Anthony Morelli Senior was like. He was an abusive drunkard who became violent and beat on Angie, and the kids too. Angie took the brunt to protect her children. Helen had never forgotten the bruises she tried to hide, often doing Angie's shopping errands while she hid her face from public humiliation and shame.

But Helen was not violent. She could never be violent. However, she did hurt the people closest to her. She finally admitted she was an alcoholic, accepting that, and had made a firm resolution to start on the Twelve-Step Program to Recovery.

Angie's firm assertion saddened her. But Helen wanted to make amends with her and she had hoped this could be the start of that major step, 'Making Amends'. It was an enormous step considering how many people, especially her family, she had to seek to make amends with. So, Angie was not to be the first. Probably, this was not the best situation to initiate making her amends. She sighed and looked up, right into the cold blue eyes of Valerie, causing her to falter.

"Hmph! I nearly didn't recognise you without your 'tea'. Or do you have it stowed in a hip flask?"

To say that Helen was surprised was an understatement. She never expected Valerie to speak to her with such contempt, especially dripping with such sarcasm. It shocked her. This was going to be harder than she realised. She pulled up her big girl panties, ignoring Valerie's confrontational remark and went with humble.

"Hello, Valerie. It's nice to see you."

Valerie rolled her eyes at hearing her mother's polite Burg manners.

"Mother."

"Go on, Maggie. I'll catch up to you girls in a moment. I won't be long."

Helen tried not to show her disappointment, but it hurt all the same.

"Valerie. I -," but she was cut off with a lethal stare and the palm of Valerie's hand that snapped up in the universal STOP sign.

"Save it, Mother."

"I wanted to apologise to you. I know I -,"

"It's going to take more than a feeble apology. I don't know that I can trust you. Do you realise what you have done?"

Helen hung her head down in shame and nodded.

"You were seen sleeping on a park bench! You got yourself mugged!"

"How did you know?" Helen whispered, overwhelmed with shame.

"Betty contacted me, and the police."

She wasn't going to elaborate on hearing about that terrifying episode or the shattering fear and concern she had. But her mother was a lush, way beyond the bounds of family assistance. Betty kept her apprised of the situation and advised her to get on with her life, look after her family and absolve herself from any responsibility with a clear conscience. This was now up to Helen to solve. Betty left her with an information package about alcoholism and addiction, which explained the dos and don'ts for family members. It was very helpful.

Helen's look of anxiety took the edge off Valerie's iciness but she wasn't going to back down just yet, not today or any day soon, not after what she did with her own granddaughters, neglectful to the point of danger and recklessness. Valerie had to deal with the fallout with her girls and she did not lie to them. They had to know the truth, that Grandma was sick, not just drunk. It was an addiction, a very dangerous addiction.

"Pffft. Oh, Mother."

Valerie shook her head.

"We live in _the_ _Burg_ , Mum. It may not be you and Mrs Morelli anymore with the grapevine, but the New Bitter Bitches of the Burg make sure that the gossip is running fast and furious. I was so embarrassed. And I was disappointed. Yes, I was worried, but you were so deep in denial, you had to sink that low to snap you out of it. Or, heaven forbid, it could have been the other way."

"Omigod," and she crossed herself quickly. "Everyone knows?" Helen was aghast.

Valerie rolled her eyes and nodded.

Her shoulders slumped. Not having seen anyone from the Burg for a while, Helen thought it sort of reciprocated. She knew very well that it only needed _one_ person to tell another person, and then it went rampant with the gossipmongers.

"You look better than I expected." Valerie remarked softly.

"Thanks. That means a lot to me. I'm working on it. I have a job too, at the drycleaners. I do ironing."

This made Valerie laugh out loud, not cynically, but with the irony of it. _(pun intended)_ It brought tears to her eyes.

"Ironing. Perfect."

She couldn't stop giggling, partly out of relief and partly because her mother had never worked and this was something she was _really_ good at.

For the first time in ages, Helen smiled. It was something she would not have been humoured with before.

"I 've gotta go, Mum. We car-pooled to get here. My minivan was vandalised."

Valerie turned and then paused.

"What's that strange smell? It smells like … solvent … or paint?"

"Oh. That's one of those hand deodorisers. To cover up the paint smell. And the acetone. It's not easy to remove."

At that moment, Maggie tooted her horn to hurry Valerie along.

 **o.o.o**

Vinnie slunk away like the pathetic coward he is. He didn't think he would be noticed at this community meeting, let alone mentioned in such a derogatory way.

"You fucker, Vinnie! You're just a greedy, slimy weasel."

"You bastard!"

"You fucked up big time."

"You and Morelli deserve each other. I hope you rot in Hell."

"Asshole! Thanks for looking after our neighbourhood. NOT!"

Jeez. What's wrong with these people? He had a business to run. Money doesn't grow on trees. That he had gambling bets on the side, using some of those business funds was another issue and none of anyone's business. His father-in-law, Harry the Hammer, was suspicious and onto him, making scary threats. His daughter Lucille deserved better. She wasn't aware of Vinnie's dalliances and his bizarre sexual proclivities. He knew he'd be wearing cement boots at the bottom of the Delaware if Harry heard about his infidelities.

He had no choice but to use Morelli as his new bounty hunter. At least he had some experience even though he fucked up so much in the beginning. How hard could it be? He was an ex-cop for Chrissake! He was finally getting his act together but Vinnie was pissed off that he lost precious bounty hunting time to his AA sessions and this other court commitment.

He called it "community service" but he wasn't so sure about that. Vinnie was suspicious. He even tried to follow him but Morelli shook him off his tail easily. What he did notice was that Morelli was not keen on this extra provision to his conditional release. He suspected he was getting a bit on the side what with the daily commitment, every day, at the same time. However, Morelli could choose his own hours. He just had to make up the time in whatever way he could, court conditions be damned. But what else was a man to think? Vinnie sniggered. _(Not a pleasant thing to imagine. Eeuww.)_

Because of his own financial circumstances, Vinnie was working extra hard to cover his debts by chasing and catching skips himself and some very creative, slippery book keeping. To date, he had covered his tracks well. Even the taxman was not aware, at this stage, or so he hoped.

But there was one quiet, yet not so subtle, sinister utterance that had him shaking in his Australian crocodile boots.

"I wonder if Hammer knows what you're up to? Watch your back, Vincenzo. Quack, quack. I know you like the whip and the stiletto thigh high boots. Not Lucille's scene, eh? I hear that quick dry cement is very handy."

Vinnie instantly lost every bit colour from his face. Yeah. That hit him right in the gonads. Quickly gathering his wits, his thin lips tightened in a lopsided sneer, and he countered.

"I hear ya, Luigi. How is your lovely wife, Isabella? Is she also so fond of shoes and coke like the delightful Bianca? I'm sure Izzy's Uncle Harry would be very interested to check your books. Bastardo!"

That was a perfect retaliatory comeback. Fight fire with fire. Vinnie made himself scarce as did Luigi. They didn't need any of the local yokels getting wind of that. They all had their dirty secrets and keeping them from the Burg grapevine was a powerful incentive.

Luigi Pisani, like Vincent Plum, worked the system and gamblers like they were, kept tabs on each other to cover their own asses. From secret baby doll bimbos with expensive tastes, their sexual proclivities, mounting gambling debts, cigarette smuggling and other illicit trades, keeping the Mob and Harry the Hammer out of the loop was critical to keeping those well-loved, vital body parts attached and their life expectancy prolonging. There was a certain vicarious pleasure in living on the edge. It was a remarkably chance encounter that Vinnie and Luigi were shocked to discover that they both frequented the same dominatrix.

 **o.o.o**

"Jeez, Morelli. Who's the thug now?"

"Thugs and criminals? Asshole. You fit both of those categories."

"You're a fuckwit, Joe Blow."

"We trusted you. You're just a pathetic jealous moron."

"You're going the same way as your father, Joe. Sucks to be you."

"I hear you have friends in the pokey who are keen to send you an invitation. Your sweet Italian ass would be so much in demand."

That was enough to give him his cue to leave. He shivered at that last remark and it was a dire reminder that he had expectations and commitments to maintain. He knew Vinnie was curious and suspicious.

Because of his own financial dilemma, Joseph Morelli was working to an agenda that was not all his own. How he hated that locked in feeling. But he did it all the same. No choice. The threat of the pokey was not something that warmed his heart. He had his daily appointment very soon. No time to waste.

As he turned the last corner before reaching the TPD outer parking lot, he noticed a small crowd near to where he'd parked his car.

"What the fuck?"

Taking a deep fortifying breath, he tamed his simmering anger, determined to only show his newly refined blank face. Adding some confidence to his swagger he strode over. They parted politely for him and what he saw stopped him in his tracks. Of course, being so blinded with rage, he did not notice them standing around, smirking, poised with their cameras.

"Un-fucking-believable!"

He couldn't help himself. He lost all thoughts of remaining composed. This was not what he expected. There was his POS, the recently scribed Wanker Wagon, with a new moniker. He stormed around his vehicle and just lost it. Spittle flew from his mouth as he spat out a slew of Italian curses.

"Porca puttana!" _For fuck's sake!_

PAEDOPHILE was emblazoned on the bonnet of his POS. Bold, in black, neatly leaving WANKER WAGON in its fluoro pink still exposed. It made a striking contrast. It was also a different style, indicating a new scribe.

"Bastardo!" _Bastard_

"Porca puttana!"

CHERRY POPPER aka RAPIST was on the driver's side door.

"Cazzo! Cazzo!" _Fuck! Fuck!_

"Shit! Shit! SHIT!"

He was just about tearing his hair out. His hands scrubbed his face and grabbed at his beard. He was so furious and frustrated. How can he drive this piece of shit around town? He was quickly becoming the laughing stock of Trenton. This was the straw that broke the camel's back. He stomped around the car, stunned that someone would do this to him, again.

"Cazzo coglione!" _Fucking asshole!"_

MANWHORE was on the passenger door, neatly beside LIAR and ASSHOLE. In the mix were the original graffiti words, now seemingly tame. The new black was very neat and precisely printed.

"Coglione!" _Asshole!_

Yep. That's exactly what he said when he read that one. Someone laughed and he turned around suddenly aware that he had a captive audience.

"Fatti i cazzo tuoi!" _Mind your own fucking business!_

His face had gone from pale sickly white at first sight of the new P word, to bright red and now a beetroot purple. The throbbing vein on his forehead was so evident they were worried it was going to pop. They continued snapping photos and taking videos. He had nothing but words to throw at them and he'd had enough. This was so FUBAR, Fucked Up Beyond All Reason. He had to leave. He had to get away from here, away from the onlookers.

"Why is this happening to me?" He thought.

"Go fuck yourselves!"

Serving them with some explicit rude Italian gestures, he opened the door and started the car. With a mighty bang, amid blue fumes it rumbled into life and he took off as quickly as he could. He couldn't get away fast enough. He was now speechless. He was shaking his head. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip.

He threw his head out of the window and roared a ferocious, frustrated and angry growl that was so animalistic but felt so much better once he had vented it. At the red light he was surrounded by laughter. Drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, he waited for the lights to change. He did not want an infringement and be questioned about those select new words, so he drove sedately, keeping to the speed limit and heeding the stop signs and traffic light accordingly.

When he reached his destination he just about choked. Two shiny black SUVs were in the parking lot. At this point, Joe Morelli was on the verge of tears. He stayed in his POS, seemingly frozen to the steering wheel, muttering under his breath.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

He was startled out of his freeze with a sharp rapping at his window.

Oh shit!

 **o.o.o**

 _TBC_

 _Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I get that y'all like it when comeuppance is on the menu._

 _Stephanie and Ranger are having a rest day after celebrating their new paperwork now lodged at the embassy. Eight days and so much fun to come._

 _It was lovely to hit the 400 reviews mark. This is officially my longest story. I can't believe that I have already gone well over 200,000 words for all my stories combined. Thank you to Margaret for opening the world of FanFiction writing to me with your invitation which led to Something's Burning. xox_


	27. Love in Paradise

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 27**

 **Love in Paradise**

 _Thanks to Janet for the characters you recognise. Not mine, but letting them out for a play in the sunshine is so much fun._

 **o.o.o**

Paradise is as Paradise suggests.

Blissful.

Idyllic.

An exceptional place of happiness and delight.

It took leaving Trenton to find Paradise on the US Virgin Islands to escape the shit storm brewing long before their departure. Imagine the glorious effect of how liberating and utterly therapeutic it is to be in this place, with the magnificent blue skies, sunshine, white beaches lined with palm trees, warm weather and a laid back lifestyle.

Stephanie and Carlos were in this Paradise, escaping, taking time to have a break, to enjoy each other without the constant distractions and interferences of their busy lives. The lack of appreciation from the Trenton community was a significant factor in choosing to go ahead with the plan. As Tank said, escaping, not retreating. They were not hiding. They were not running, except in the context of their early morning run along the beach as part of their daily fitness regime. Watching the sunrise while they did their stretches, with only the sounds of the gentle lapping of the little waves barely rippling along the shore and the early morning bird calls to enhance the ambience, was so very special. It never got old. Stephanie and Carlos have found Paradise here and in each other.

This morning the distant thunder woke Carlos up, promising a spectacular light show with lightning later that morning. The towering cumulonimbus clouds that accompany a tropical storm were ever changing and a refreshingly clean white – no Trenton pollution to spoil them here. The only time they darkened was with the lower cumulous and nimbostratus heavy rain-filled clouds which passed very quickly.

Carlos decided to play dirty or just sneaky, or probably a bit of both.

"Let's go, Babe. I'll race you to the point."

"Hmm …?"

He'd been teasing her nipple that just happened to be close to his mouth, and, as any man would, he took advantage. He didn't stop his suckling and teasing, mind you. Stephanie had woken to that delightful sensation and was ready to get up to other pleasurable pursuits.

She mock growled at him and grabbed him firmly before he could escape their warm bed. He halted all moves of escape because she too could play dirty and sneaky, and he liked it, a lot. This was fast becoming a new tantalising morning routine.

"Game on."

"So, where are you going in such a hurry, Big Boy? It seems your body has other ideas," as she deliberately stroked his full length, just the way he liked, aroused.

He growled and pounced on her lips with a very satisfying toe-curling kiss.

"Truce. We can do that later, when we get back. The weather is changing. I think that tropical storm is almost upon us. Let's go check it out."

"Hmmm … 'K … but you're on a promise. You owe me, this morning."

Stephanie stretched languidly and kicked the warm high thread count sheet off her, still holding him firmly, tempting Carlos some more.

"Deal."

Carlos grinned, and mentally half-groaned, as she released her grip on him, when he ghosted his luscious lips across her pouty ones, teasing the corner of her mouth for good measure. He may have growled that gorgeous sexy morning growl that she loved so much. Tease for counter tease.

Sometimes it was a real battle of wills to leave their bed. They enjoyed their morning run to catch the sunrise. Some mornings it was so magically serene with the ocean like glass as the sun crept slowly over the horizon, made especially more glorious with the presence of clouds. Clouds gave the sunrise a canvas to enhance its glory and announce its arrival. Hearing the distant rumblings, Carlos knew this morning would be just perfect. But the desire to enter her snug warm heat hard and fast, was also a most tempting and glorious experience of which he never tired. He grinned down at her.

They both revelled in each other's bodies so much, no matter what time of day, morning glories, afternoon delights and any time they liked. Sometimes even on the beach, heralding the sunrise with a luxuriating kind of stretching, knowing they had exclusive privacy at this golden time of day. Sometimes their arousal would be triggered by a single sound or smell or a recently visited place, or the need to christen yet another part of their special Paradise.

"I know what you're thinking, Batman. You know if there are clouds I'd be disappointed to miss it, even though you are looking particularly delicious this morning. *sigh* A feast for my eyes in all your luscious nakedness."

She sighed again, with some more subtle, sexy moves knowing his eyes tracked every movement of her body and her lips.

"Right. Let's do it. Let's go! You're on a promise. Hold that thought. We'll make it a quick run as these tropical storms can come arrive quite rapidly."

With one arm wrapped around her waist, he pulled her up for one more deep kiss and they both knew the race was on.

Morning runs required very little clothing and between hops to put on their shoes, they both bounced out onto the deck to race down the stairs to the beach below. Carlos hit the security lights to lock the house and activate the string of safety lights accompanying the stairs to the landings and the beach, since it was still quite dark and only the stars showed on this moon free night. A flash of lightning in the distance over the ocean when they hit the beach spurred them on. Stephanie's giggles ahead of him was all part of the game. He loved that sound and gave chase.

They reached a steady synchronised rhythm, step for step, Stephanie's long legs now able to match his stride, until he put on a sudden burst of speed, just to tease her. His energy was practically boundless matching his stamina in all things physical.

Rounding the point into the second bay he put on an extra burst of speed to the next point, a good mile away, turning and sprinting to meet Steph halfway back. She had already started her stretches and stopped suddenly, poised to admire and capture the sun as it rose. She heard the rumbling sounds getting closer, counting the seconds before the lightning flashed. In the dim light the huge column of clouds lit up with dynamic flashes and forks of lightning. It was getting closer. She snapped some photos, delighted when she captured the spectacular display that lit up the massive tower and the huge anvil shape that led the storm towards them. The sunrise was spectacular as promised with stunning rose gold and orange reflecting off the clouds. The massive anvil took on a golden pinkish hue that made it glow luminescent. Between balances, exercises and more stretches, Steph was able to snap some brilliant photos of the sunrise and the incoming storm.

With the clouds from the massive thunderstorm, the sunrise was indeed most spectacular. Between the lightning flashes, the dim morning sky and the sun's rays piercing through the glowing clouds from behind the wall of clouds, the colours and contrasts were magnificent and well worth the rush to get there. The tall towering thunder clouds loomed ominously but looked so glorious with the sunrise and nature's light show.

"Time to go back, Babe. We don't want to be caught out in the open, not with that lightning. Besides, I like my pie warm, not fried."

Stephanie gasped at the deliberate innuendo.

They ran back but in the final hundred yards the rain suddenly pelted down. Huge, fat ploppy raindrops came down, slowly at first, immediately changing the smooth surface of the waters to those lovely rain-droppy rings with bouncy splashes of water and ripples. Stephanie quickly stole a few rapid fire shots on her camera when she put the setting on to burst mode. The gust of wind that headed the storm was enough to make them move quickly up the stairs, as a louder rumble indicated how close it was to the villa.

"Who would believe how icy cold raindrops could be?"

Too late. Before they reached the first landing, they were soaked to the skin. With hair hanging in wet dreadlocks and between deep breaths, laughs and giggles, they finally reached the safety of the veranda. Drinking their water while towel-drying their hair, faces, shoulders and legs, they watched the sheets of rain pass like multiple grey curtains over the waters below.

"Oh. I love the sound of the rain on the veranda roof. It's such a pleasant sound especially when it can be enjoyed under the safety of cover. Tropical rain feels so clean. Omigod! Look at that!"

A rainbow had escaped through a space between the clouds as the sun burst through. One side was bright and lighter while the outer side was so much darker. Steph was rapt and took advantage knowing all too well that rainbows rarely last long. It's all about timing and being in the right place at the right time. The elevation of the villa gave that advantage an even better perspective. Stephanie was really enjoying her photography and proved to have a good eye for capturing nature at its best.

Stephanie looked radiant. Her smile broadened as she peeled off her wet tank top and shorts after ditching her shoes and socks. Slowly she removed her sports bra and lacy boy shorts with plenty of wiggle before she reached for the sweat towel to further dry her damp hair.

"I believe that you made me a promise," she remarked casually with a sultry voice while taking in the sight of Carlos slowly removing his wet clothes.

"So I did. Let's have a warm up shower and we can get down to pleasuring Milady."

He grabbed for Stephanie but she squealed and tried to run inside only to find that Carlos had not as yet disarmed the locks. He grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder carrying her to the Balinese day bed, tossing her onto the soft base and the colourful scatter cushions. Before she could utter a sound his mouth latched onto hers and very little was said as Carlos made good of his promise. Her cries of ecstasy were drowned out by the overhead thunder that added new vibrations which they felt to the core.

Carlos disarmed the locks and carried his very sated and boneless fiancée inside to the bathroom. While she stood in the warm shower he gently shampooed her hair, massaging her head and then added conditioner. While he washed her body he massaged her neck and shoulders, and then her calves which led to some more hot loving. Stephanie reciprocated. The only sounds were appreciative moans as the thunderstorm moved on to the other side of the island.

After a breakfast of fruit, eggs and toast, Stephanie grabbed the receipts and a copy of the new paperwork which they had completed at the consulate.

"Eight days, and I will become _Mrs_ Stephanie _Mañoso_. I can barely wait."

Carlos smiled indulgently and kissed his fiancée chastely on the lips.

"That gives us time to make our wedding plans for on the beach."

"A sunset wedding?"

"Oh yes, a sunset _beach_ wedding. The seven-day forecast looks promising. Marta and her sister, Nita, have offered to set up a beautiful wedding altar in true island style. Marta has also expressed a strong desire to make our wedding feast."

Stephanie was so excited. Marta already knew that Stephanie loved her food. She jumped up delighted with that suggestion. That was a definite yes. They had a special connection, Stephanie and Marta. Carlos was fascinated with how Steph's natural beauty and disarming charm warmed up to people and the children here. It must be the island atmosphere and the laid-back lifestyle or was it that she could completely be herself. It was likely to be a combination of all these and then some more.

At no time did she feel those uncomfortable vibes from before when the M word was mentioned. This felt so right. After his beautiful proposal on the beach, also at sunset, it seemed appropriate to plan their wedding at that time too. That they could enjoy both sunrise and sunset here on the Virgin Islands, was the icing on the cake. He had promised her sunsets over the sea and the sunrises over the sea were a bonus. There are not many places where both can be enjoyed in the one place.

"Cake. We have to have a wedding cake."

"Of course we do. Let's make a list. Neither of us wants a big fluffy wedding. I have already booked your Merry Men and Ella and Luis into the resort we first stayed in. None of them know about our nuptials. Who do you reckon will be the first to work it out?"

"Not even Tank? Or Ella?"

"Nope. No one, but they will all be here for our special day. We can complete our community service in the meantime."

"Hmm. If not Ella, I think Hector or Lester will be the ones to notice first."

"I'm going with Tank, and Hector, too. We'll go to the airport to meet them straight after lunch. I've organised a shuttle bus to transfer them to the resort. I have a welcome surprise for the afternoon and they're gonna love it. Bathers are required. I bet you know what it is."

"Omigod! That's a great idea!"

 **o.o.o**

 _TBC_

 _Ranger used his muscle to bring us back to Paradise to overcome the counter-hijacking in Trenton. He's a happy man now. You know he likes to be in control._

 _And … Omigod! I wonder what the afternoon activity is going to be?_

 _Thank you for all the wonderful reviews._


	28. Paying It Forward

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 28**

 **Paying it Forward**

 _Not mine, but letting these fabulous characters out for a play in Paradise is so much fun. Thanks to Janet for the characters you recognise._

 **o.o.o**

"So when did this all happen?! And you were going to tell me? When?"

I laid all the cards on the table. Despite my secrecy, Stephanie was very forgiving since it was all for a good cause. Not that my secrecy was deceitful or dishonest, but more that it was a necessary business transaction. While we were on St Thomas at the resort, I had set things in motion.

I remember it was one of those memorable mornings last week, after a wonderful, indulgent night, while she was sleeping soundly, late into the morning, re-energising and recovering. I was also re-energised. So, call me smug, but I was a very happy smug bastard. Quickly, I had made arrangements with the Consul and Veterans' Affairs on St Thomas, for our community service project. Official confirmation was prompt and welcomely received. They were very supportive and appreciated our decision to take it upon ourselves to commit here, in the US Virgin Islands.

Our mission would be twofold: repairs and reconnection for the isolated villages on the hillside, still with tarps; and visiting the Vets. The school repairs came as a later decision. I was really hoping Steph would choose or see something, preferably close to her heart, to initiate the third deed. I didn't have to wait long. I immediately knew when she had made her choice. The Core team were quick to endorse the plan with Stephanie's addition, and, between us, we set the wheels in motion for a big delivery. Because this was not the first time we had done this sort of thing, everybody knew what was required. Approval for the shipment of perishable supplies, and equipment were the primary tasks. We used our contacts for contractors whom we trusted and had used many times before. The rest we would accomplish ourselves.

Those homes which we saw from the plane with the blue tarps, were still isolated, cut-off from their only route to the main town, obviously caused by the destruction of the hurricanes' wild winds and torrential rain, with so many fallen trees and large rocks and boulders. This on its own was usually not a major issue to overcome, but the landslide made it a complicated and hazardous repair.

More functional temporary generators had been ordered and would be airlifted by helicopter, with extra water supplies, and other necessary provisions. Larger equipment would arrive on a special shipment tomorrow morning. Hiring of larger earthmoving equipment from the town would expedite the works.

I immediately sought out Mack, a former army buddy, now retired, but still actively involved, especially for specialist consultations. He had responded eagerly to this plan. He was our go-to man in these type of situations and emergencies, and we had used him many times before. He surveyed the scene from a helicopter last week. His expertise, knowledge and experiences from many years in the US Army Corps of Engineers was essential in ensuring safety and success. He wasn't a cowboy which is why we connected so well. I knew that I could assign him that part of our mission independently, knowing it would be done proficiently. Rangeman would cover all costs involved but we knew he would donate his own time regardless of our protests. He was now more of a philanthropist and he liked being part of these sort of projects.

Presently, the locals only had access with the use of horses which allowed some supplies to come through to their villages on a longer alternative route. But that had many limitations, especially hampered by the more difficult approach via the road from the west side. Mack asked the villagers what the pressing needs were and took that on board in addition to his professional observations.

Along with a special team of army engineers, their first priority was clearing the rubble and stabilising the hillside. Simultaneously, the temporary generators were set up much to the relief of the locals. They enabled the power to remain on longer and would not burn out so readily. Mack was confident to repair and stabilise road access, to clear and reconnect homes back to the power grid, manage roof repairs and soon enable to use of the preferred, shorter route to town by two, maybe three weeks at the most.

Hawkeye, the helicopter pilot was eager to assist with aerial deliveries- another military man of course. We had crossed paths many times and I trusted him implicitly on many a night mission as our extraction pilot. Hawkeye and Mack had worked together before and that was providential.

With my contacts at the VA, Rusty and Snake, with whom I had served on a number of missions, I soon had a priority program for the retired military vets who would benefit from our visit and possibly some team building activities. Fresh faces and someone to share is always beneficial. Retiring here in the US Virgin Islands had been therapeutic for many military personnel and the island lifestyle was conducive to their recovery and, to a degree, coping with their various post-deployment medical conditions both physical and PTDS related. It's not a cure, but it was important to us making time to talk, listen, share and catch up with the service men and women at the facilities here on St Thomas.

Thirdly, Stephanie's Mission, the school needed upgrading of their outdoor and playground facilities. She had engaged the assistance of the head teacher and liaised with his staff who were very excited with her proposition. The children were asked for a hypothetical playground wish list. With that information, new outdoor play areas and a covered assembly area were devised. Delivery would coincide with the other shipment, now arriving tomorrow.

o.o.o

To say that Stephanie was beside herself while we waited for their plane to land, was an understatement. With so many large men, the first class and business class sections were combined. I had requisitioned for a special aircraft to accommodate our needs for the comfort of my men.

We could see their silhouettes behind the translucent screens and she delighted in guessing who was who.

"Omigod. That's Tank and those next two have to be Cal and Hal, no mistaking their massive shoulders and size."

She scanned the next set as they were processed in the queue.

"Oh yeah. I know that's Lester, because he's the most animated and talking so much and that would be Bobby with him for sure. I can see the cornrows' outline. I bet the immigration officer is a woman."

I chuckled and knew she was right. Then it got a bit crowded and harder to discern them distinctly.

"Oh yeah! I see Ram and Vince. They're easy to spot with their height and that one has to be Woody with his broad shoulders and that swagger."

She jumped up and down gleefully, grabbing my arm.

"Ohhh! I see Hector! And Zero, and Zip and that one _has_ to be Junior! No doubt about it. Omigod, how many of my Merry Men are here, Carlos? Is that Manny too? And there's another Merry Man. Is that Miguel?"

"Not bad, Babe. But you missed a couple."

Confused, she scrutinised more closely.

"A couple."

"Yeah, a _couple_."

"A _couple_?"

Cute. She looked at me even more confused with that characteristic thoughtful, pondering pout, then she recounted to confirm her identifications. I grinned as the first passengers arrived through the sliding doors.

Stephanie squealed as she ran towards Ella and Luis, hugging Ella tightly. The rest of her Merry Men soon followed, quickly crowding the arrivals area, each taking turns to hug her and shake hands or greet me in the various ways we do with fist bumps and all.

While we were being ushered to move out of the receiving area, which is not an easy task considering their size and sheer bulk en masse, two things happened simultaneously, instantly putting the men on alert.

There was a loud shout of surprise, in Spanish, causing everyone to turn in that direction, _and_ , at the same time it was accompanied by a massive thump to my shoulder from Tank. It was Hector's loud shout that promptly had all the men taking a defensive stance surrounding Stephanie completely. Alas, their weapons were in secure baggage still to be collected. Stephanie giggled at their various poses, not unlike Charlie's Angels, sans weapons.

" _Hermano! Hermosa!_ "

The normally cool and calm Hector, the _all-seeing_ Hector, was the first to grab Stephanie in a big hug and sweep her off her feet in a happy circle of joy as he kissed her on both cheeks.

"Dios! The ring! Holy shit! You're engaged!"

"About fucking time, man!" at the same time from Tank. He man-hugged me firmly with huge thumps on my back.

"Phew. That's a relief. Jeez, I feel so naked without my weapons," Lester muttered, with nods of agreement as they all eased up, breathing a collective sigh of relief with the all clear, followed by multiple gasps of surprise and curious eyes for confirmation as they processed this second bit of vital information.

"What did you say?!"

Quick glances to me and then to Stephanie confirmed Hector's spontaneous outburst.

Hector was holding Stephanie's sparkling left hand aloft triumphantly, before she was yanked back firmly by Ella with a fierce glare and a sinister grin if they dared to interrupt her. Respect and smiles, grinning and lots of back slapping. More hugging and congratulations. I stood back, watching, but not for long.

"You lucky bastard."

"You'd better be good to her, Ranger."

This was said tongue in cheek, but I understood the implied threat and nodded my head.

"Congratulations, Hermano."

Most of this was said with respect and awe, and a degree of wistfulness. They adored and respected Stephanie, their little Range-Sister.

"HOOAH!"

Everyone around us was smiling and appeared to be enjoying the loud exuberance and energy of our group.

"When?!"

"Sunset." Stephanie dead-panned.

"Where?"

"On the beach."

"Aw. Rangeman. That sounds fucking romantic."

"HOOAH!"

With that last remark from her Merry Men, she couldn't maintain her blank face any longer. Their animated expressions and warm responses played against her. I could tell she was enjoying their excitement so much with the rapid fire questions. Her elation was infectious. Not bad for a bunch of scary looking men of muscle. I walked over and squeezed her shoulder and took the stand beside her, united, and grinned down at her. Taking her by the chin gently, I gave her thorough kiss, which earned another cheer.

"HOOAH!"

Tank came up beside me as we waited for them to collect their luggage from the carousel.

"Who would have thought these war-seasoned warriors would behave like a bunch of bridesmaids?" He chuckled at his own philosophical tone and grinned at me.

"Yeah. Go figure."

"Oh, damnit! You guys got married without us."

My men actually froze and pouted. I couldn't resist the smile as I winked at my _fiancée_.

"Nope."

"So … you're engaged, but not married, yet?"

She only smiled in answer to this hopeful question.

"When's the wedding? You _are_ getting married? Right?"

"Well, we thought we'd wait until you all arrived because our Rangeman family is very important to us. So, we wanted to share our special day with you all, here in the Virgin Islands."

"HOOAH!"

"So, I'll ask again, … When?"

"After our community service, next week."

This was met with approval and high-fives.

"Does that mean we can be the groomsmen?"

"Or the bridesmaids!"

The laughter was good to see, like one big happy family. Ella hugged me and just beamed with her eyes glistening as Luis shook both my hands in a warm double grip.

Finally, we made it out of the airport and loaded everyone onto the shuttle bus to the resort. The second shuttle bus took all the luggage. The concierge was prepared and was proficient with the admissions process. Rooms were allocated close together. Ella and Luis were in an executive suite in lieu of the extra demands in looking after Rangeman and the men. We agreed to meet within an hour in the lobby with their swimming gear. Casual and relaxed was the order of the day for some playtime and an overview of our Paying It Forward Mission, this year's community service project.

They arrived in a huge array of colours with hats and sunglasses on, which caused quite a distraction in the lobby. A captive audience had gathered. Time to move on out.

"So many fine young men, Ella. Aren't we the lucky ones?" Stephanie winked at Ella.

She smiled at me and squeezed my hand.

The bus took us to ferry and from there we went across to St John and were bused to Coral Bay. On the beach were a number of dinghies and kayaks. After a quick explanation, bags were loaded into the dinghies and they chose their own way to reach the pontoon party boat. Predictably, the SEALs decided to swim over and in no time at all, the whole happy motley crew was aboard.

After setting the bags and backpacks aside I gathered everybody to sit at the tables in front of the whiteboard. I explained how Mack and his team of engineers were unloading the shipments for each task. The air freighters arrived promptly and Mack confirmed that all items for safely accounted for. I outlined the three components of our plan which was met with approval. They smiled at Stephanie's plan. It was a refreshing concept, unlike any other task we had done before.

Once the details were outlined and the logistics and timing was arranged, it was party time.

Inside was a fridge with water and a wide variety of bottled beers in a large ice bath. Food snacks made an appetising display with cut up tropical fruit platters, and dipping vegetables, sushi, crackers and dips. Bobby and Woody decided to man the bar. On the deck were reclining deck chairs, with options for sitting in the sun or under the shade of the canopies and colourful umbrellas. Inside were the tables and chairs which we moved to the edges and some comfortable sofas. Vince and Junior became the DJs and the party atmosphere was gaining momentum.

Snorkels, fins and masks were available for snorkelling to the reef nearby in the crystal clear waters. A large set of towels and beach towels were available. The upper deck had more reclining loungers and a couple of hammocks.

Outside the pontoon was a colourful selection of inflatables, canoes, stand-up boards with paddles and a few jet skis.

"Shotgun the pink flamingo!"

Laughter and shaking heads. This was a good start. These people had really earned this break and I felt content with this scenario as a reward for my loyal team.

Stephanie removed her turquoise coverall to have a swim and silence descended on the boat.

"What? Guys? Is something wrong?"

"Nope."

"Not from here."

"Shit no!"

"Brussel sprouts."

"Grandma Mazur."

"Siberian ice bath."

"You look mighty fine, Angel."

"I reckon you two have been very –"

Lester was swiftly upside-slapped by first Hal and then Tank.

"You look bloody fantastic, Bomber."

"Thank you. Well, I have to admit, you all look pretty awesome, too."

"Hey! Pretty?! We're men. We don't do _pretty_. Handsome, yes. Pretty, no."

Before she knew what was happening, Zip and Ram suddenly grabbed her and ran with her leaping off the pontoon into the sparkling waters. Stephanie was shrieking and laughing and it was on. Everyone plunged into the water.

We snorkelled to the reef while Hal, Cal, Woody and Vince free-dived. Steph was amazed at their ability to stay down so long without surfacing for air. Hal grinned and beckoned to Steph to show her something he saw under the reef ledges. She moved so well in the water. He indicated the starfish, the colourful corals especially the sea fan. She hearted him when he pointed to the anemones with her favourite 'Nemos' and some spiky sea urchins. Then he pointed to a rock which suddenly changed colours and texture to reveal itself as an octopus which quickly slunk away. The cluster of lobsters hiding under the ledge and in the crevices made her curious because all she saw was a bunch of long feelers at first. She gave him the thumbs up when she recognised them and rubbed her tummy deliciously.

A sea turtle was casually swimming by as Hal indicated up to the surface. He listened to her excited recount. When he admired her endurance and how her breathing relaxed when she was in awe all of the wonderful marine life, she beamed. Since we arrived here, snorkelling was second to parasailing among a list of many favourite activities.

From the loungers we lay in the sun watching Manny and Miguel set up a mini water polo game with some weighted inflatable goals. That and the inflatable banana boat and that colourful water trampoline had these big men frolicking in the warm waters like a bunch of kids. Tank leapt from the pontoon onto the trampoline sending Hector and Zero flying into the air.

"So much better than Point Pleasant, Carlos. It's great to see my Merry Men letting loose."

I gave her a bottle of water and we enjoyed watching our Rangeman family alongside Ella and Luis. They had as much fun on the inflatable flip flops. At one stage we were all bobbing around in the water either in colourful tubes or the various inflatables. Luis and Hector had been taking photos from above and in and under the water. A few of the guys made good use of their go pros.

It was definitely fun, relaxing and a pleasant way to celebrate in the sun and the sea. Leisurely recovery before our busy week was deliberately planned and paid off.

After packing up and collecting all the inflatables and securing everything we made our way back to the beach in the dinghies and on to the resort.

A barbecue on the beach at the resort, surrounded with lit tiki torches as the sun went down, capped off a really great day. I could tell that everybody enjoyed this escape from Trenton with their flight and finishing with a wonderful time at the pontoon party boat. It's rare for us to let our hair down like this, altogether.

An early start after a group run on the beach before sunrise followed by a hearty breakfast on the terrace and we were set to start our PIF Mission.

o.o.o

 _TBC_

 _These guys really needed this fun in the sun. Of course with all that frolicking, the Merry Men hijacked the chapter somewhat. Can you imagine what a lovely drool-worthy sight it would be watching all these buff men with water glistening off their beautiful muscular buff bodies, dripping … sighhh …_


	29. Mighty Men In Black

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 29**

 **Mighty** **Men in Black**

 _Almost at the end of this tale of love in Paradise or Paradise in love._

 _Characters you recognise belong to JE. The mistakes are mine alone._

 **o.o.o**

Before going down for breakfast after our morning run, I suggested that while all the men were unloading the air freighters, that Stephanie and Ella check the many bridal shops on the islands and a have a Girls' Day Out. I felt both of them could benefit from some uninterrupted Girl Time. We planned to be on the tarmac at 0700 and assist Mack and his crew.

Stephanie and Ella did protest, initially, insisting they could be of assistance, keen to be part of the Paying It Forward Mission. Today was the unload, sort and deliver kind of day involving muscle and machinery. However, with a little coercion, and I may have mentioned to sort her out and deliver on my promise, that when I mentioned Girl Time and bridal retail therapy, they capitulated quite easily. Secretly, I thought this was ideally 'mother' and daughter bonding time.

Before we departed, Luis and Ella came up to us.

"Thank you for our special accommodation, Ranger. Our suite is very spacious, plush and totally amazing."

"You two deserve it and so much more. You do so much for me, for my men and for Rangeman. Not only do you work for me and the company, you have taken so much care of us. It's the least I could do."

"And me too, especially," Stephanie added warmly.

"Consider this a special Thank You and a special bonus."

"HOOHA!"

A chorus from our mighty men in black, who had gathered around, acknowledged their unanimous endorsement wholeheartedly. Luis gave Ella a one shoulder hug and smiled at Ranger with a nod of thanks.

As the men departed, Ella beamed at Stephanie.

"Oh, Stephanie. I am so happy for you two. You look positively radiant. All this sunshine and blue skies certainly agrees with you."

"You know it does, Ella. It's been a breath of fresh air, fresh clean air. Tank was so right in suggesting we 'retreat' and Carlos found the perfect place."

"You both deserved some one-on-one time, away from all those distractions. It's just about you and Carlos. He's a good man who deserves a wonderful woman like you, Stephanie. Luis and I are so proud of you both.

You know, I was always afraid that Ranger would be so intensely involved in his work, his men, running the business and his army missions, that he had no time for love. You have a special aura about you, _mi hija_. You showed him your warmth and light. Unlike other women, you saw Ranger, the man, for what he stood for and not for his wealth and good looks. I could tell from the first time he met you, and, with every other encounter thereafter, I could tell you made an impact upon him. He was very taken with you. He shared his first impression of you, explaining how determined you were to succeed despite all the hard knocks. He would marvel at your endurance and resilience. You made him curious and I also saw pride for your achievements. Because you saw Ranger the soldier, you somehow broke through his firmly set boundaries and self-disciplined barriers that enabled him to show you Carlos, the man. He began to smile and I know with that faraway look he would sometimes wear, when his mask dropped, I knew he was thinking of you."

She sighed happily and squeezed Stephanie's hands.

"And the rest is history. We have a mission and I think you know exactly what you are after."

Stephanie smiled and nodded.

After looking over the information brochures about the US Virgin Islands, they discovered there were so many bridal stores available. Stephanie had something specific in mind and Ella listened intently to her needs as they searched. Having perused their various websites, Stephanie and Ella made a short list once they had viewed the bridal dresses.

"We have a driver recommended by the concierge, to take us anywhere we require, organised by Carlos."

When they arrived at the second bridal shop on St John's, somewhat exhausted, and a tad disappointed, Stephanie had a good feeling about this one. They had already checked out a number of bridal shops on St Croix and St Thomas but nothing seemed to appeal. Mostly they carried the same stock, catering for those ample gowns with trains and fancy accoutrements of all kinds. A couple of the bridal shops just didn't appeal, more suited to expensive gowns with too much ick factor. Over a lunch break, they refreshed their plans for the selections on St John.

Amazingly, the driver had a car ready on each island and was friendly and helpful, pointing out a few sights along the way.

Stephanie was surprised to see Marta inside. She greeted her warmly and then grinned at Ella. When they hugged, while Steph attempted to introduce Ella to Marta, she was stunned.

"Omigod. Holy crap. You two know each other?"

"Cousins, _mi hija_."

Stephanie rolled her eyes and smiled. Of course they were and rolled her eyes again.

Marta explained that this was her daughter's business, a seamstress specialising in individual bridal wear. Many dresses were ready made but Marisol specialised in personal designs. Before the afternoon was done, Marisol, had listened to Stephanie's ideas and sketched them quickly. Her assistant grabbed examples of dresses which incorporated the elements Stephanie had in mind and placed them on a large display table. From that she drew a completely new design and a very happy and relieved Stephanie sighed, pleased with the way things were shaping up.

She didn't want, nor like, all that formal 'frockery' but still wanted something classy yet stylish, suitable for an island beachside wedding. Besides, after the disaster which was her _Mother's_ choice to marry Dickie Orr, and her _Mother's_ choice of an over the top, fluffy, prissy, gaudy, poofy, vomit-worthy, puffy-sleeved monstrosity of a wedding gown, this was so much better. It was _her_ choice for _her_ special wedding day. So much better.

While Marta arranged for coffee and refreshments, Marisol took her measurements and recommended which fabrics and lace would work well with this design all the while recording every detail. On the new sketch she made many anecdotal notes with specific details for each aspect of Stephanie's wedding dress. She attached samples to the sketch. They considered the best lengths and accessories and footwear, with input from all four ladies. It was a happy, friendly and relaxed discussion and Stephanie was surprised how comfortable she felt. It was so refreshing and she wished it could have been like this before. No. Not really. She didn't. This is how it _should_ have been, like now, discussing the ideas, with her adopted mother, Ella, and Marta.

While Ella and Marta were catching up on family details and happenings, Steph leaned back and listened, feeling content. She texted Carlos a short message. He responded saying the team had moved up to the villages for roof repairs with his mate Mack and Hawkeye the helicopter pilot. The Rangemen were a hard working team and they got things done. They were an efficient body of soldiers, SEALs, marines and airmen. Ranger had chosen well and was proud of his men. She smiled at his brief remarks, filling in the spaces. She then assured him that her mission was successful, especially now since they found Marisol. She kept it concise, knowing he was busy.

Marisol filed all the details on her computer and made a new folder for the sketches. She was excited to be doing this for Stephanie, about whom she had already heard so much from her mother. They arranged for a fitting in three days' time.

It was a quiet night for us all. A very satisfying physical day for my men, but since I had enough energy in reserve, I made it my mission to love my beautiful, radiant fiancée. Gentle pleasuring was the strategy as I tried to extract information playfully from Stephanie but she endured the sweet torture without disclosing any details.

I decided it was more practical for the two of us to stay at the resort for this week as well. After morning runs and breakfast, everyone was ready to visit the VA centre. After I'd visited the Consulate and the VA, I had sent on details to Tank who had delegated Manny and Miguel to devise a ground plan before leaving Trenton, using the blue prints of the VA facility.

Miguel's family ran a large plant nursery in Hamilton Township and Manny's family was next door specialising in ponds, water features, fountains and waterfalls, and garden sculptures. Together, the two businesses had built a joint display to demonstrate how magical well-chosen plantings and water features can add ambience. A Japanese garden also displayed its unique aspects.

Miguel and Manny had incorporated many aspects, avoiding the standard central round pond type. The VA authority had given them carte blanche with a large area along a wall that included some well-established trees and shrubs. The local nursery had the plants and had recommended which local and indigenous plants would suit best to their needs. In their design, they did, however, include a pond of reflection in a quiet area, for remembrance and contemplation, different from the standard, using a successful, unique design from Australia, in the west.

In one of the conference rooms, they outlined their ideas and the layout. Manny had pre-ordered the water features and the necessary equipment to operate them, sculptures, Japanese lanterns and other statuary from his father's business. Miguel had ordered landscaping machinery and both of these requisitions had arrived and been despatched to the VA with the shipment they had already unloaded yesterday. Over the next three afternoons, they established a new memorial garden with a gazebo and a number of tranquil, yet simple water features. Paved pathways, with strategically placed benches and quiet spots, statuary and sculptures, were surrounded by raised garden beds containing fragrant plants and herbs, like aromatherapy, with consideration for easy access for the wheelchair Vets and the sight-impaired, to enjoy up close. Ella and Stephanie did the plantings under direction from Manny and Miguel, in both the regular and the raised garden beds.

The Rangemen formed teams and were appointed different tasks. Tank's team were building the gazebo. Bobby's team were the earthmovers using mini machinery, tractors with a trailer for the soil cartage and pavers, a couple of front end loaders and a mini forklift. Ella and Stephanie laughed at the looks of envy from the other teams like the sandlot kids playing in the sand. Big boys and their toys. My team was placing the sculptures and water features while Lester's team were the pavers and planters. All the teams were involved with the raised garden beds. All this was documented stage by stage by Luis or Hector, to present to the Vets in a photobook and for our own records.

The next morning, we assisted with the village repairs adding manpower under the engineering expertise and direction of Mack, while Ella and Stephanie visited the Vets after her fitting session. Rangeman then conducted the next two morning events and visits with the Vets. We ran a mini modified version of the Invictus Games, a wonderful international event organised by His Royal Highness, Prince Harry. Invictus means unconquered. Wheelchair basketball was a favourite as was sit down volleyball. Archery also proved to be successful. There was laughter and serious competitive spirit. The occupational therapists and physiotherapists and of course, the Rangemen, were also involved in the games, as either competitors or referees but mostly in running the events. I was very proud of my men, and women, and this Paying It Forward mission was both meaningful and dignified.

In the afternoons we continued with the new memorial garden. Walking through the older gardens and listening to these servicemen and women was cathartic and, we as the visitors were well received. Stephanie worked her magic on a couple of cynical Vets with Tank and I as her guardians and muscle. The range of injuries surprised Stephanie, so many with prosthetics, hearing or vision impairments but it was the invisible injuries that showed her true compassion and respect. She disarmed them with light-hearted humour. She was a good listener. The Vets who had suffered traumatic brain injuries showed a lot of mettle in overcoming formidable odds. Hal and Cal were expert at signing and in this way, Rangeman showed how inclusive we were.

The official opening was a dignified and reverent occasion with a number of visiting dignitaries, including the Consul. For the Vets, the raised garden beds created a reaction of surprise and wonder, as did the gazebo and the smaller water features. All combined, with the multi-sensory aspects of the plants in these raised garden beds, it was a massive success. The subtle placement of serene statuary among new plantings added to the ambience. The pathways were wide enough to enable wheelchairs to pass with ease. But the pool of reflection and contemplation was created in a peaceful setting away from the gazebo using the trees, shrubbery and sculptures placed strategically so that it was more than just sky reflected in the still mirror-like waters. Stephanie had added some frangipani flowers to float in the water of some of the water features. I humbly acknowledged with pride my team and made special mention of Manny and Miguel in a brief speech.

Stephanie's mission was a totally different venture, considering this was one of the few times that our community service was directed towards the needs of children. The roof was repaired and a veranda added with an adjoining covered area for eating lunch, outdoor classroom activities and undercover play when the tropical storms came. Considering the weather direction was important as was providing much needed shade since many of the taller palms had snapped, leaving the school more exposed to the elements.

With the weather warming up, and the physicality of the work, a lot of the Rangemen went shirtless which created quite an impact in this community. Young mothers and their sisters, mothers and aunts, and a few men as well, enjoyed this delicious sight. Eye candy, pure and simple, works every time. Admiring hot and sweaty muscular bodies, in a variety of shades, became a popular pastime for the onlookers and supporters. The community pitched in with refreshments, snacks and food and physical help from the men and fathers who were so rapt that their little school was getting the much needed repairs and improvements. Many hands make light work.

Two new play areas were built with the bright primary colours of mainly red, blue and yellow equipment, with bits of green, orange and purple, considering the different age groups, junior and middle primary school children. Using the results of their wish list, the children had chosen well. We included climbing, swinging, and balancing potential with ropes, bridges, a slide, beams, a net and boards on coils, not unlike surfing. Smaller palm logs for balancing beams added a natural component along with stepping stones from smoothed slices of the palm logs, and long palm logs just for sitting, thus recycling as much as we could.

Of course, we reused the landscape machinery and enabled Lester's and Tank's teams to utilise them this time. The children were entranced watching this happening while they were at play in a cordoned off area. Once we complete this final task, we plan to donate the machinery back to the community for maintenance and general hire.

Stephanie's design also incorporated a Ninja-style circuit which was enthusiastically received by the Rangemen, but of course, at a smaller scale suitable for small children. The circuit enabled the children to negotiate the course with a variety of upper body, climbing, strength and balance skills. They delighted in making a mini warped wall but no water features. Underneath each play area was soft sand or soft sponge matting to soften the fall.

A beautiful nature playscape with a meandering stream using pumped water like a natural water feature was the final component. Shells, smooth pebbles and small shells were added to the stream, pressed into the concrete floor. Rocks and larger logs from the hillside landslide were transported down to the school to be incorporated in the natural playscape with new plantings. Recycling was a school target and it seemed appropriate, according to Stephanie, to do this as much as it was safe and practicable.

It only took two days and it was opened officially with a lot of pomp and ceremony in the covered assembly area. The children were unanimous in their official approval, endorsement and delight. The parents organised a hearty meal for Rangeman and were stunned that we had donated our time and covered all the costs. Each of us was given a handmade card of thanks made by the children.

In the evening we were invited to a celebration feast and a barbecue in the small town square with all the food trucks. Marta had coordinated the cooking and the community was very appreciative. With live music, good food and drinks, it was a party atmosphere. The Rangemen were propositioned but politely declined. We anticipated this happening. There was a fine line and it was understood. We give to the community, we do not take back, except in the nature of this barbecue evening celebration. We do not wish to offend.

When we finally made it back to the resort, we were a happy bunch of campers, happy but tired after a very physical week in the heat. Mack was making good progress and since the road was stabilised, repaired and reinforced, the road was open to traffic once more.

Next week was a week of R&R as a reward for their hard work for both the Trenton subterfuge, AKA, Moving Out to Newark and this wonderful community service project. If they needed to be back in Trenton, I would support that but still give them this time in lieu.

Stephanie had fallen asleep on the Terrace. I bid everyone goodnight and carried my Babe, my fiancée, to the lift and to our executive suite.

In the morning, however, there was a change of heart, regarding the R&R time. A request had been made. A proposition of a different kind.

 **o.o.o**

 _TBC_

 _I wonder what the request was?_

 _And that also means the wedding is nigh._


	30. Fate

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 30**

 **Fate**

 **o.o.o**

 _JE's characters are fun to play with but, sadly, they're not mine. Even more sadly, I have to give them back. I have taken them out for a spin, some to a better place and some who chose their own destiny by default of their own actions._

 **o.o.o**

"Mother-daughter time," is what Steph had called it, with glistening eyes when I'd asked if she was okay with her progress.

"It was so … precious, yes special and precious, and along with Marta and Marisol, I have had the most wonderful time deciding on my look for our special day."

She sighed with a smile.

"You know, I still can't believe it. It's quite surreal. It has been quite relaxing. No dramas, no bridezilla or rather, Motherzillasaurus-of-the-Bride performances. Monsterella. Jeez! Add Grandma into the mix and it was chaos, not even having any input or wishes from me. I suppose I let her take over, although I felt bulldozed and bullied all along. No wonder people wondered if I was pregnant. Thank God! Dodged another bullet there. Well, the pregnancy Dickwit bullet. Anyway, enough about him. Blah!

Oh, Carlos. You cannot begin to imagine how God _awful_ it was before, when I married The Dickwit. In contrast, this has been so peaceful, so pleasant and my choices, our choices," she sighed wistfully, kissing me sweetly.

"I'm so happy."

"Meant to be, Babe."

Her face lit up brightly as a beautiful smile spread across her face. Placing both hands on my cheeks, she kissed me again, chastely, her blue eyes sparkling.

"Yes. Yes, it was. I mean, yes it is. You know what I mean. I can't believe how providential it was, that one little word."

I watched her closely, lovingly, and knew instantly the one word to which she was referring. I nodded and smiled.

" _ **Destiny**_."

We both said it at the same time and grinned.

"That must have been some kind of Hungarian-Italian premonition, Batman. It just popped out and I knew immediately, that's what I wanted. I wanted you. I needed you, in my heart, in my life."

Together, we had already made firm preparations to make it a day that we both wanted to have, to share in the company of our closest friends and family. We both agreed at the importance of our Rangeman family. Neither of us wanted a large event, just the thirteen men with Ella and Luis, sounded ideal as the perfect wedding celebration for our needs. It was friendly and intimate and, in all honesty, simple and low key.

We can celebrate with my family, Grandma Mazur, Frank, Valerie with the girls and Albert, and Steph's friends Mary Lou, Eddie, Big Dog, Robin and Carl, in Newark in the future. For the present, we wanted it our way, small and intimate. Once we open the flood gates to the Mañoso clan alone, the numbers would explode. I love my family but neither of us wanted our special day to be bigger than _Ben Hur_. No. This was better. And this location was so very perfect, peaceful, warm and sunny, just what we both needed and deserved. It was here that we were finally able to let go and declare our feelings for one another, completely released. Point Pleasant was a good starter but once we were here, it sealed the deal. This place was most certainly a Paradise, _our_ Paradise where we have made glorious memories, and many more to come. Paradise is our happy place. This Paradise is our **Destiny**.

o.o.o

Stephanie and Ella were going to do their girl thing this morning and making some the final bridal preparations. Shoes were on the list, the rest was a secret. I escorted them to the resort entrance, my hand in the small of Stephanie's back.

After a searing toe curling kiss amid wolf whistles and catcalls from her Merry Men, I patted her on her sweet ass and sent her on her way. So I lost the awareness of my surroundings.

"HOOAH!"

Okay! I can handle that. I rolled my eyes at my men to which Tank shook his head with a huge toothy grin. The men proceeded to the conference room. I had called a morning debriefing meeting before they get to enjoy their well-deserved R & R, and to give them some immediate feedback. I am so proud of my team for what they have achieved and done for these communities.

As I saw Stephanie and Ella off with a wave from the front of the resort, I turned to face Tank, who was smiling at me, an uncharacteristically soft smile. Sometimes he really surprises me.

"You are a lucky bastard, man. You two deserve each other so much and it's great to see you both so happy. I am just so grateful that she came into your life, and by more than just her presence, into our lives as well. We have all benefited from that special aura that is Stephanie Plum."

Tank grabbed Ranger, thumping his back in a firm man-hug, with unspoken words of mutual reassurance and gratitude.

My phone rang and I noted the identity. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity. When Tank heard my formality with the mention of "Sir" a few times, he showed guarded concern for me, as a friend and his boss.

"Ah, damn. Shit no!" Tank muttered.

I listened and made some acknowledging remarks, non-committal but I indicated that I would give it due consideration, promising to get back to them after this meeting, before I disconnected. Some ideas quickly swirled in my head, like a premonition. This could be just the ideal scenario I was contemplating. It could work, as I absentmindedly clipped my phone in place. My 2IC was watching me intently, not so guarded anymore but curious now, still trying to get a read on me. I thumped him to the shoulder.

"C'mon. Let's go. I'll fill you in on the way."

We walked into the conference room and everyone stood tall and proud, almost to attention. I signalled for them to sit.

"First of all, what you did out there was nothing short of amazing: assisting with Mack's team in the hilltop villages, the remarkable success of our work with the Vets at the VA where so many of them spend time and the magical transformation at the local school. The buzz of excitement from all three areas is a resounding affirmation of this paying It Forward Mission. I am so proud of you all.

The word from the VA is how therapeutic our new memorial garden has been already. Reports that family visits have been have more pleasurable in the new surrounds because we have enabled greater access. The quiet zones and that awesome contemplation pool of reflection have been well-received and every other aspect. It's truly a wonderful addition to the VA for our Vets.

You volunteered your time. That is so much appreciated. No one was forced into this venture and to see the difference you have made is astounding both for the physical and for their mental well-being of the people we encountered who have been so hard hit and affected. The relief is palpable. Hector has created a slideshow to help us reflect and see the impact of our great teamwork. Note the before and after shots. He is compiling an extended display for later viewing.

Grins of satisfaction and humility were evident. And pride.

"I hope you will enjoy your week of R & R. Your accommodation is covered here at the resort. If any of you need to be back on the mainland, you can do so readily and still get your leave in lieu.

But first. Trenton. REPORT!" I barked in my usual commanding manner. Tank grinned approvingly while Lester rubbed his hands in delight.

"Sir! Yessir!" They chorused.

Tank eyed me curiously with that characteristic chin lift and that one eye brow.

"Where would you like to begin? Grandma Mazur? The Harpy? Frank? Valerie? Trenton? Or the Fuckwit Cop?"

"Trenton."

In turn they all took it in turn to report the events in a short, concise manner.

"In a word, implosion. Small crimes, vandalism and theft, B&Es which quickly escalated to more in the Burg. Chambersburg folks demanded a meeting with the Mayor and he gave it to them right between the eyes. The bonus was that Helen, Angie, Bella and JoBlow, and even Vinnie, were there as their misdeeds were revealed and how they perpetuated things in that bubble world. Being publicly scorned by the Mayor and the Chief of Police in front of the residents was the shit. Stark Street overflowed their night time activities into the streets of the Burg. The Mayor called in the state troopers to move them back to their zone. These people still don't get it. They are so much in denial. The Mayor and the TPD spelled it out for them and acknowledged our positive impact in protecting their precious Burg and Trenton proper. We have good allies there."

Sneers and shaking of heads demonstrated their disgust and contempt for those folks.

"Edna."

"She has been 'a hoot', as she so often says. Stephanie put her on notice to keep her hands to herself, with us. She's content and happily settled into Stephanie's revamped apartment. Good solution there with other aged people for company. She enjoyed being part of the subterfuge. We can see where Angel gets her mischief and sense of fun from. It definitely skipped a generation."

Smiles and sighs of relief accompanied that report.

"Frank Plum?"

"He's living happily in the Carolinas, after divorcing the Harpy. He's living near his brothers, and also reconnected with some army buddies from Nam. He spends his time fishing, working in a Men's Shed program and as a volunteer at the local VA. Insurance from the Plum residence went into a partnership in a small boat for recreational fishing with his brothers. He comes up to visit Valerie, and Edna, or they come down to him. He's living a healthier, fitter lifestyle."

Nods of approval. Frank made the right move in many ways.

"Valerie?"

"Valerie Kloughn-Plum has totally disowned her mother. The Harpy moved in with them for a short spell, until she almost dropped the baby on its head. Albert's reflexes saved the baby. Valerie sent her bags to the homeless shelter. Albert has joined a law firm specialising in fraud and appears to be enjoying greater success. He's a good snooper like his sister-in-law. They have accepted him with a new moniker, 'Snoopy'. All good there."

Smiles at the 'Snoopy' nickname showed their approval for Valerie and Albert.

"The Harpy, Helen Plum?"

"So much to tell. In short, she fell off the wagon, more than once, and caused a fire which burnt the house down. She moved in with Valerie until things went from bad to worse there, back on the booze. She missed her court date for DUI and was taken in. She's now attending AA more regularly and doing her community service at the local church and cooking for the Soup Kitchen. Moved in with Angie Morelli and then totally lost the wagon as the wheels came off. In and out of Homeless shelter. Found sleeping on park bench and was mugged, which was the big turning point. Now living in a Halfway House, working part-time ironing at the dry cleaners.

Frank has paid her a small restricted conditional subsidy for living costs, forbidding any form of alcohol or she loses her allowance. She is now Making Amends as part of her AA journey. There is hope for her but she is on her own. Sad and lonely but she made that bed!"

More shaking heads for that lost cause. She sounds rather pitiful but if she can move forward, Stephanie would feel better, but no longer guilted by that Harpy.

"The Morelli women?"

"Bella suffered a stroke and is dependent on Angie Morelli, with dementia and limited mobility. Angie is alone, being her mother's primary carer. She and Helen were a good match until Helen blew it. Angie evicted the drunkard. Her life is pitiful. She totally banished Joe the Fuckwit. Totally."

Rolling of the eyes and disdain followed that report. No love lost there for the Morelli's. Speaking of Morelli's, I can't wait to hear this one.

"The Cop?"

"Angry, in denial, obsessed and stalking brunettes got him charged three times with assault. Didn't complete his first round of community service or AA. He had to start over. Pissed off. AA intermittent but now more regular, but he's not progressed as far as the Harpy. Completing his community service since he had to start over, attending the boot scooting and classes with the kids from the colleges for protection and nailing sexual predators. He has only just started working out our role in his being there. But he doesn't have all the pieces yet."

Scoffs, laughter and mutterings of "Stupid fucker", and other derisive murmurs.

"We've had some fun with him, tailing, sight-seeing, our little hunt and stalk game of the day. Cal and Hal were having fun messing with him and we've been tag-teaming the tails. He has been getting more edgy and still so fixated with Stephanie. He's developing a nervous tic with all this watching over his shoulder. Maybe even whiplash."

"Our plan is working to a T. And he's still working for Vinnie and that's a match made in Hell. Vinnie is reaming him a new one every day, but in turn, Vinnie's on edge because of his over-bonding with Harry the Hammer constantly on _his_ case. He has massive gambling debts to cover. Ironically, it's such a brilliant scenario, they need each other and best of all, they deserve each other, the Fuckwit and the Duck Fucker."

"He's a fucking idiot. Still thinks he has a chance. His obsession is dangerous. We clued the TPD in on this."

"Cue Les and Miguel with the rest of the Stephanie sightings which led to assault charges times three."

"Yeah. One of which happened to be the girlfriend of that huge Kiwi guy, Rangi. He clocked Morelli and his girlfriend, with her pointy toes, got him right in his precious 'boys', sorted him out, doubled over on the ground, blowing chunks. The local Burg paparazzi have been recording his deeds at every incident. Payback is such a Bitch."

Lester and Miguel grinned lasciviously.

"Well, we thought we'd really mess with his head, with Big Blue. See, Miguel here could pass for Beautiful," as Miguel turned, swung his hips and dramatically shook out his curly hair, just like my Babe sometimes does, before putting his hair into a messy ponytail and threading it through the back of his cap. Yeah, that works. His deceptively slighter frame made it plausible from afar.

"JoBlow also assaulted another Stephanie look-alike, AKA Miguel, at the supermarket after he tailed us in Big Blue. Man, that car is a fucking awesome. His face was priceless. But Rangi and his girl was the best at the scene of a car accident with smoke and shit. The third assault _and_ B &E was at Edna's apartment. Broke in and grabbed Miguel, thinking he was Beautiful, and Miguel clocked him good and hard. The icing on the cake was Jeanne-Ellen taking him in as her skip, especially in that leather Catwoman outfit. Morelli thought he had it made. Dickhead. We might have let his whereabouts slip. While Edna was at the TPD lodging her report for the B&E and the assault on her guest, we were there to see him brought in by J-E. Magic moment in the rapid downfall of JoBlow."

Chuckles and sniggers accompanied these comments.

"Edna loved it, playing her role brilliantly. She knew Morelli's haunts and we knew his AA schedule and the dance protection program of course. Shit. He was in a real snit about the whole boot scooting thing and the _distraction_ concept. Has to wear all the gear, even the hat."

"Yeah. Judge Betty bluntly laid it out for him, and her sister, Dolores, is ballsy, taking him on. "It's this, or the pokey is next for you." To be honest, Dolores is getting a really big kick with his Prima Donna behaviour. Michele, AKA Tango, is having a field day. You know Tango. Like Cal and Hal, he's a SEAL. He's been messing with the Fucker's head. He's not sure if Michele is gay or not. Tango can swing both ways and he couldn't stop laughing explaining those first dance classes, on-on-one with him and Dolores with her prodding. Of course, he made sure Morelli saw his SEAL tats. He's got muscles on his muscles. Tank's call on him wearing black on black with his ponytail worked a treat, reminding him of you. Fuck man, that was priceless! You know, in slow mo, the leather jacket, his huge 'guns' with the tats. It was the Shit. Morelli's eyes nearly popped out. He was grinding his teeth."

Ram was enjoying this part so much, as was everyone else, that he had tears in his eyes and was giggling. Giggling? I shook my head but smiled at the hilarity of it all.

"So how could he not see you, Tank, and Ram."

"We were like smoke, Rangeman. Smoke."

"So, do you reckon he knows we covered his bail?"

Roars of riotous laughter and high fives.

"Oh, yeah! Fuck yeah! He sure does _now_. Didn't realise how sickly pale a swarthy Italian Stallion like JoBlow could go! Man, he almost tossed his cookies mid class. It was hysterical. Floundered with his steps and Dolores nailed him. Totally worth it. Hector captured that momentous moment."

All eyes went to the screen as Hector brought up the footage. I had to laugh at the cowboy boots, the torn jeans and the whole kit. It was obvious when the reality hit him. Yep. Worth it. Bastard deserves all this shit.

"The week before we arrived here, we upped our tactics with more sightings of our black SUVs and on the first day of events for the freshman, we had a large number taking up space in the parking lot. You could tell it shook him to the core."

"Fuck yeah. JoBlow stumbled up the stairs and Tango grabbed him on the ass. God, it was hilarious and we all know what a fine masculine specimen Tango is. He's a great fit with the new Rangeman team in Newark, by the way. Excellent leadership skills. Morelli and the rest of the team were putting on their comms and testing. We could swing in, with only him, and Dolores too, so the Fucking with the Fuckwit was sheer brilliance."

"The dancing started and Morelli was quick to spot the first perp. Maybe we should use him for more distractions! No, can that. Anyway, Hector with his distinctive smooth tones, came over the comms with, "Well, lookie-lookie. Heads up peeps." So while the dancing is going on, the team is spotting perps and making team calls, while we're in his head. Rangeman, it was so much fun, best mind fucking ever."

"So we kept talking in between. Tango and Hector were openly admiring his ass, Best Ass in Trenton shit, and JoBlow was sweating bullets. When Tango turned it into a pissing contest with, I saw him first. His ass is mine." He started going green. Mind you, he's not bad with the line dancing shit. Tango and Dolores did a good job on him."

"When Woody drawled, "I wonder how long he'll _survive_. A hundred bucks says he doesn't. I wonder if they'll do the _Hokey_ _Pokey_? You know what they say about cops, even ex-cops in jail, eh?"

He nearly shat himself. We kept intercepting his comms and I could see Tango cracking up. All the while we had spotted another perp, a cougar.

"Dolores knows her psychology. I've seen her in action with Kendo and Tae Kwon Do. Fierce. She maintained both the comms so well."

"The kicker came from Zero. Man, I thought the Fuckwit was going to have a massive coronary during the break. He spat his water out when he heard this. Go on, man. Tell him, Zero."

Zero grinned, cleared his throat dramatically, putting on that quiet _innocent_ tone of his which sounds so naïve, secretive and a bit malicious at the same time.

"Hokey Pokey? But that's kids' dance. 'You put your right hand in, you put your right hand out, …'. Ohh! Fuck. That brings up all sorts of other connotations for Hokey Pokey in The Pokey. Oh fuuu-cckkk! He ain't gonna like that. Sucks to be him. Oh shit. That might be a new verse. No. Nope. No. Not going there. So, do you reckon he knows we posted bail for him?"

"Then he staggers over to the bar for a bottle of water. That blue-haired cougar, looking all concerned but preying on his helplessness, brings the young, keen freshman and comes to Morelli aid. He says something about "needing some fresh air", code for our cue that a perp is coming to the door. Thing is, he meant it for himself but had the dance comms unit open declaring his move. So he gets the fresh air and is instrumental in nailing the cougar. That freshman was briefed after he barfed. He's still got it. That was one helluva distraction."

I grinned at them. It was work, fun and _entertainment_. I looked at Tank and he realised it too.

"Shit, man. This is so like what My Little Girl went through. Even that entertainment aspect. Shit man. But, the great thing is, I reckon Morelli has been on the receiving end of just about everything he and the Burg did to her. Fate. Just deserts. Kismet. He chose his destiny. And so did the others."

"Fucking A"

"Well done, team. Great work Fucking with the Fucker. Mission accomplished. But we're not about to let him off that easily. We need to keep him on his toes. If he so much as steps over the line, he's on his own. Case closed for the time being. Enough about him.

I have been given an interesting proposition, only just now as Stephanie and Ella were leaving, right before this meeting. Tank and I think it has great potential but I want you to make up your own mind. R&R time still stands. I have to confess, the implications have merit. Merit for now and long term and with that, I am considering a major decision in our future."

All eyes were on me. Lester as usual likes to cut to the chase.

"Spit it out, Cuz. Sir."

o.o.o

 _TBC_

 _I know. I know. You hate me. You hate me. Another cliffie. *sigh*_

 _Consider it another hijacking._

 _But up next, it's the good one, the best one, the one you've been waiting. As Ranger always says, "It's gonna be good, Babes."_

 _I saw this on the internet and thought how perfect this saying was for this chapter: "Fate leads the willing, and drags the reluctant." By Seneca._


	31. Serendipity

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 31**

 **Serendipity**

 _The characters who are familiar belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot and any mistakes are mine alone. Enjoy._

 **o.o.o**

"This landed in my lap, _just_ this morning. Potential was what first came to mind, big potential. As I said before, it has merit. I'm sure it is something we can accomplish successfully and still have a bit of fun."

The squirming and impatience from my impetuous cousin earned him a slap upside from my 2IC.

"Chill, Cuz. I have been contemplating retirement but I am not ready for that. Not yet. A change of scenery, especially away from Trenton is very refreshing and energising. Look at this last week alone. You can feel the difference. I can see the impact island that life has had on you already."

I could tell that the R word captured their attention. Their eyes ping-ponged around the room like a pinball machine.

"Okay. Here's the deal. It's not a sales pitch per se. The phone call was _not_ from my handler, so you can stand at ease on that one."

There was an audible sigh of relief, a few quiet "Hooahs" before they visibly relaxed their stance. I signalled them to sit at the conference table.

"It was an urgent request from the Commissioner of Police, here, for either advice, support or assistance. I reckon we can accomplish all three. His staff have been stretched with the usual local crimes, not unlike Trenton, but on a smaller scale of course. But the need for extra man power which comes with the impact of tourism was taxing. This new situation required more staff than he could afford and the time management of investigating and monitoring it was beyond their domain. It needed urgent attention, hence the request.

I would like you to consider this: setting up a new Rangeman office, here, in the US Virgin Islands. No obligations. Take your time to consider your options and if it works for you, I would feel honoured to have you on the team. If you wish to remain on the mainland at the Newark Rangeman office that's fine too, no judgement.

I'm still formulating the concept but I feel we could make a successful business here, still doing security, but also assisting with a similar venture as we have on the mainland. Whether we choose to continue as bounty hunters I have yet to investigate and that would likely be a _group_ decision. Perhaps this is an omen, a _good_ omen, that it's time for a change. Call it **serendipity** , but this is an opportunity too good to ignore without examination and analysis. We could maintain our valuable work with the Vets and the VA. The more I think about it, the more I feel it's time we all wound back a bit. We have proudly served our country well many times. We deserve a good life, a better life. None of that shit we've been dealing with lately in Trenton. I feel it's time for a change. I am ready for a change. This paradise could be therapeutic for all of us. Accommodation, a suitable building as our HQ? I could even buy one of the smaller resorts, if it came to the crunch."

This made them laugh since they knew it was a likely possibility.

"In the meantime, your accommodation is secure here at this resort. And R&R is still a given."

The smiles and grins as they contemplated this option was encouraging.

"It's just an idea that seems to lend itself to our needs. An ideal fit. It's still in a formative stage. Gentleman, think out loud. So far I've only mentioned it to Tank as we walked from the entrance of this resort to the conference room."

"To me it's ticking all the boxes."

"Hell yeah!"

"Fucking A."

"HOOAH!"

"Sounds like a fucking great idea. Imagine all the downtime we could enjoy. I'm in."

"Merit is an understatement. It's a fucking awesome idea."

I couldn't help the grin. They were all on board. Shit. This is moving fast. Opportunity knocks and we're gonna open that door.

"I'll get the Core Team to draft a submission and any input will be considered."

"Alright. Go on. What was this _proposition_ then?"

"Right. Since the last two hurricanes hit the islands so hard, the recovery took a longer for businesses to find their feet. The island authorities are having serious problems with a huge increase in crimes against cashed-up tourists who are the main soft targets. The docks and the market places are the two main areas of concern. More than just simple pick pockets, they appear to be in packs, youths perhaps, preying on easy, quick attacks. They don't appear to be locals and this is why the police need extra man power. The islands' economy is dependent on tourism. They want to avoid bad press from the outset. The success of their advertising campaigns could quickly be lost with the sudden influx of a crime wave. Sound familiar? They want to nip it in the bud before these perps make a strong foothold and permanently set up business. It has been lucrative in only a few weeks. Hence the urgent request.

In the harbour, we saw three cruise ships docking and the large crowds enable these perps to disappear like smoke. Each cruise ship can have two to five thousand tourists, a lot of young people, families, business groups, party goers and holiday makers. The Tourism Commission has banked heavily on bringing fast money into the coffers while allowing local businesses to get back on their feet again. They've all suffered great losses and we've seen the impact ourselves, even though it is past the immediate aftermath. Recovery takes time. Likewise, the cruise ships lost valuable income as a direct result from the hurricanes' damage."

Acceptance, nodding heads; they got it. I couldn't help the grin on my face. While they were buzzing with that information and the potential for us as a new business here, I made a quick phone call.

"We can start tomorrow, but, like the two of us, I can tell you are keen to get your teeth into this. Tank and I will do recon at the docks with our teams; Bobby and Les, your teams at the main markets along the main drag. Blend in as tourists, you know the drill.

My thoughts are heading towards an organised bunch, much like Fagan and the pickpockets in Oliver Twist. Observe and collect as much data and evidence about their movements. Don't intervene unless someone's life is endangered. I want to see how they operate, how they disperse, how they create a diversion, if any, where they meet up and what they collect or steal or take. Obviously, check if they use any weapons or if they use threats. Their time frame? You know? We have only limited Intel. You know the deal. At the same time, I can have Hawkeye as our eye-in-the-sky. He has one of his mates who can video. I'll confirm with him it's a go. That should give us plenty of time to have the full big picture from multiple angles at our meeting this afternoon at 1800."

They got up, raring to go.

"Hold up men. That means, after the wedding, your R&R time is there for the taking. That gives us time to explore Rangeman possibilities."

"HOOAH!"

o.o.o

While our two teams roamed the docks, Tank and I had permission to board the centre cruise ship to get a birds-eye view. The place was thronging with tourists coming and going, up and down the boarding ramps. There were many hawkers and vendors with stalls of colourful tropical clothing, beach wear, local artefacts, handmade jewellery, selling souvenirs and a variety of food trucks. As we surveyed the scene from our high perch, Woody came over the comms and we saw it unfold as he reported.

"Boss. Skateboarders and perps on mini scooters just arrived. Older teenagers, with black backpacks, maybe even in their early twenties. We saw them arrive at the eastern end, scanning the crowd, pointing. You know the look. It was their body language that made us suspicious. Amateurs but cocky, like it's a game. They've just parted. Colourful shirts over black tank tops, black board shorts, sunnies and hats. Not distinctive and you're right, they don't look to be local boys."

Confirmation came in from the rest of our teams. They were easy to spot once we had their 'uniform' and now we can get a handle on their MO.

"Gotcha. Yeah. We see them. They're on the move. Get some photos from ground zero. Be like Terry Tourists. Tank is videoing from up here and later we can access the CCTV as well. Hawkeye? Got that?"

He confirmed. Lester and Bobby encountered a similar situation but the perps were on bicycles and mostly small motorbikes with large black helmets. Same, same. Interesting. Easy to spot from our perspective. Driver, with the pillion passenger doing the snatch and grab.

Amateurs can be unpredictable. Thankfully they are not military and perhaps still finding their feet. We'll soon know.

o.o.o

"Report!"

"These perps don't hang around long but do many sorties in groups, a bit like a young pack of jackals, cause a distraction for quick escape. Bag snatching, cameras and mobile phones mostly. It seems many people carry their cards and cash in their phones like a wallet. We saw five taken in one hit. They disappeared quickly between the stalls and the side streets, with the mayhem they caused making it easy. They're opportunists."

Hector had accessed the CCTV.

"The system badly needs upgrading. That should be the first step in monitoring such large crowds. The market place has a different set up with three to four rows of stalls and shops as well as the food trucks. Too many easy routes for escape. No actual cameras but the fittings are similar. But there are many poles where they have banners. A quick install would be easy."

"Yeah. Same at the docks but only one or two rows of vendors. They seem to be using the laneways between the buildings as convenient escape routes."

"We followed a pair and they dumped their wheels near an old run-down beach bar which appears to be abandoned. We had borrowed a couple of bikes and returned them later on. We gave them a few bucks for loaning their wheels. One of bike lenders said their fathers were getting fed up with this new invasion and taking business away. It appears they only emerge in the afternoons."

"Yeah. It was easy to follow the skateboarders. We made like tourists, taking tourist snaps and selfies while surreptitiously following them as they walked. A couple of them doubled back and we engaged with a touristy sightseeing request, while Junior was gushing doing a 360-degree panorama view. Stupid little fuckers even posed and a third photo-bombed a group shot when we parted with thanks. We have good ID."

"They dumped their shirts too making it easier for them to disappear. Everyone's upset and looking for a red and pink tropical shirt. The little bastards have the cheek to walk back through, smirking and watching the fallout. They're cocky but still amateurs."

"Hawkeye concurred. His mate Condor, got some great footage from both venues. We can analyse their movements more closely and track their paths from each disturbance. He's sending that on now."

More enthusiastic discussion followed and a strategic plan was made. I reported back to the Commissioner of Police with our observations and our recommendations from the debrief. He was relieved and when I made him a counter proposition he was totally on board. Rangeman USVI was a Go. We have a new destiny.

Hector made the overnight express order for better surveillance equipment, and, with a team at each venue, we had them installed quickly before the morning was out. He set up a control centre at the police station with zoom controls and other goodies. Facial recognition software made the round up task very efficient.

Within three days we had them rounded up, either on sight, mid theft or while they were escaping to their post sortie meeting place. Hawkeye's footage showed that they met and unloaded at a van in a laneway near to the cruise ships and all the loot was taken aboard the ship by two older perps using small wheelie suitcases. It was a flawlessly ordinary blend as they crossed the gangway onto the cruise ship.

They fell into our hands quite easily since they repeatedly used the same escape routes. Hal and Tank took great pleasure in clothes-lining a couple as they pedalled past. The CCTV footage gave the police plenty of evidence. We found the 'Fagans', a pair of Jersey brothers who had form in Trenton. When they recognised us, they shat themselves. The sizable hidden stash was easily recovered from their cabin. We left the local police to sort that out. The young perps were all arrested, and since they were over twenty-one years of age, they were charged as adults.

The rest of the week was relaxing and pleasant as we relived that little exercise, like light comedic relief so vastly different from our usual operations and missions. The men enjoyed the perks of island life – the beaches, the bars, the bikini clad babes, the crystal clear waters, parasailing, scuba diving and boating – all in this place of blue skies, warmth and sunshine. It is amazing how healing to the soul this can be.

The Rangeman team made regular visits to the Vets and listened to their stories and shared experiences. Without deliberately planning it, we took it in turns. Spending time in the new memorial garden was pleasant and relaxing.

Once the cruise ship assignment was completed, with the final debrief and congratulations of another successful operation, Stephanie and I decided to return to our villa and spent some precious alone time.

A big surprise awaited Stephanie when Lester and Bobby returned from the airport arrivals with one more Rangeman. He was our Newark coordinator, our go-to man who got things done, and, as is his preference, always worked behind the scenes, keeping a low profile much to the frustration of Stephanie. Since he was unable to physically assist with the hard labour, he was involved from the get-go and was instrumental in ensuring prompt ordering and dispatch of all our equipment and of course, the research.

I was right. She was surprised. When they wheeled him to the van with the rear lifter, her head was tilted, perplexed, just like a curious puppy when it cocks its head. I could practically hear the gears turning. She looked up at me but I was not giving the game away.

"Something's burning, Babe?"

"Hola, Niña," he smiled and winked at her, but with his dark sunglasses on, and the Rangeman cap, she almost didn't see it.

Stunned silence. She blinked. Bobby and Lester were grinning, watching her process that titbit of information.

"Omigod! Rodriguez? You're _Rodriguez_!? Finally, I get to meet the mysterious sneak who fills my inbox. Holy crap, you're _real_. I was beginning to think my Merry Men were hazing me when I first started doing searches. You … I wanted to call you so many names, but I can now see that you're not an asshole or a shithead."

That last disclosure had us all cracking up. Perfect icebreaker. She had disarmed our resident hermit, who rarely smiles, in one fell swoop. Like Hector, he prefers a quieter zone, in a downstairs office. But with his facial scars which included the loss of an ear and part of his scalp, he felt more comfortable in his own space. His office was modified for wheelchair use and easy access to the other elevator which provided close proximity to his room. He had initially refused my offer to join the Rangeman team, making constraints and demands, blunt and direct, but certainly not unreasonable. He didn't want any pity party bullshit nor to be treated with kid gloves. To those who didn't know him, he appeared sullen and surly but this was mainly due to the severe scarring from burns. When his searches were done he often attached Richard Wagner's _Ride of the Valkyries_ on his email. It drove Tank crazy.

"Omigod. Look at you. You really are a Merry Man. You've got muscles on your muscles!"

The three of us collectively held our breath at her first statement but she made him laugh out loud again, first with the asshole and shithead remarks and now this. I don't recall Rodriguez laughing out loud, ever. She chatted with him all the way back to the resort. Proud of you, Babe.

We had a large celebration once again on the pontoon party boat with the Rangeman team but more importantly, for Mack and his team of hard working engineers, Hawkeye and Snake. They deserved a hearty thanks for their efforts with the village repairs. Their accommodation was in another resort, covered by Rangeman. We had another great day on the water. Rodriguez was a former SEAL and being in the water he moved with confident grace. He was all upper body strength and he had powerful lung capacity. He could power his limp legs with one wide fin, flexing his body and hips like a merman. We finished the day with a beachside barbecue as before.

The next day we took Ella and Luis out for a special dinner. Ella was so relaxed and Luis acknowledged how wonderful this Paying It Forward mission had been for them personally, being involved and especially being included. They, too, were happy to stay on the islands. Just like the thirteen men, Ella and Luis volunteered for the community service project.

Ella and Stephanie had bonded so much more this week and their connection was deeper and closer than ever before. For Ella, this was a dream come true. I watched them interact so naturally and saw Luis smiling warmly. He was a serious man and it was obvious that he, too, enjoyed the change of pace, but most especially, this connection with Stephanie, not only for me, but my men and for them as well. He had referred to her as Wonder Woman after learning that the men had different pet names for her, like Bomber, Beautiful, Angel, Little Girl, Chica, Wifey, Angelita and, of course, Babe. Luis thought they were the names of their girlfriends.

Since we had our first date on the rooftop of the Rangeman building on Haywood, Luis and Ella enjoyed Stephanie's company very much in their apartment on six. It gave them the opportunity to be like parents again. Sadly, they lost both of their sons within eighteen months of each other on deployments to the Middle East. The Rangeman building was their home and the men their family. But Stephanie, with her natural warmth, her light and that quirky sense of humour, had disarmed even this serious man. That day when he realised the power of her impact was a noticeable turning point for Luis. Ella's reaction to Stephanie rubbed off on him as well.

I turned the them, noticing the worry lines on Ella's face. Steph smiled at me and took the lead.

"Ella, Luis, we greatly appreciate what you have done for the two of us and I am truly grateful that you were there for me, just like warm-hearted parents. I have always said to you, "Will you adopt me?" as a kind of joke, but I really mean it. So, will you? It doesn't have to be on paper, but in my heart, I have always felt this connection and I …"

Ella nodded silently, stood and hugged her warmly with tears in her yes. Luis enveloped the two of them in a strong hug. I stood and smiled joining in the hug fest.

"Okay." Steph sniffed. She braced herself.

"I take that as a yes."

"We both have something else very important to ask."

o.o.o

 _ **TBC**_

 _Tee hee hee! I know. Uh oh. They did it again. SMH. I feel so bad … Not._

 _Honestly, I had full intention to complete this story with the wedding in this chapter but the plot ran away with the script and now I feel better, that the next chapter, the last chapter, can be what we are all looking forward to … just the wedding. I felt I couldn't do it justice tagging it on the end of this chapter._

 _Enjoy._


	32. Destiny

**Making Moves**

 **Chapter 32**

 **DESTINY**

 _The characters who are familiar belong to Janet Evanovich. The plot and any mistakes are mine alone. And here it is! The final chapter. Enjoy._

 **o.o.o**

Talk about being unaware of your surroundings. I was very happy, feeling excited with that wonderful sense of anticipation on this special day. Many times did I wonder if my life would ever lead to something so blissful like this, if I ever even deserved this kind of happiness, this elation, this love, this day. I was just reflecting on our glorious morning celebrating the last day of our singlehood status while standing here on the beach as sunset was approaching, listening to the quiet wash of the little waves lapping the shore, hearing the seagulls nearby and hearing a distant boat approaching. I was overwhelmed with an extraordinary sensation of peace and tranquillity. Is this how Destiny feels?

We were waiting on the beach on a carpeted boardwalk leading through a veiled wooden archway to the two large arched palm leaves just behind where I stood. Both arches were tastefully decorated with small clusters of some of the local flowers which Stephanie loved: colourful bougainvilleas and frangipanis which were interwoven amid tropical foliage. At the base of the white veiled wooden arch were a pair of bright aqua and turquoise coloured pots containing gardenias with some of the taller exotic heliconia, adding vibrancy and a subtle contrast to the pots. Since she loved sunsets so much, evidenced by her many photos, Steph had chosen small touches of coral and pink tones with a splash of amber, some white and turquoise, to counter the warm colours. It was a subtle complementary blend. The aqua and turquoise were to reflect the beautiful colours of the sea around these islands.

The boardwalk enabled easy access to wheel Rodriguez to be part of our ceremony. Secondly, and more importantly, so that Stephanie could walk down the aisle to our beachside altar. We had originally considered getting married barefoot on the sand but changed our minds. Stephanie did have these "killer heels" she wanted to wear. Who was I to argue with that kind of logic? We had the chairs arranged in a semi-circle so that everyone was close to us.

As the sound of the boat neared and slowed down, Tank thumped me firmly on the shoulder to break my reverie. He grinned at my surprise and nudged me while his eyes indicated upward. I know he wasn't rolling his eyes. The men stirred and reacted as a squeal of rapture and jubilation that could only be Stephanie, made me glance upward. She waved with triumphant delight. The equally joyous response from the guys was contagious as she arrived by parasailing on a swing under the white canopy, safely harnessed. I was totally impressed. I was in awe. My Wonder Woman. Of course she would choose something unconventional and extraordinary to make her arrival. We all knew she loved to fly. The whistles and catcalls were to be expected.

But what was she wearing? At first glance she looked like a snowman with her skirts billowing, more like a robe tied at the waist. Her head was wrapped in a turban. But her brilliant smile and squeals of delight distracted us from her unusual appearance. There had to be a practical explanation for this. Who cares? Her joy was infectious.

Hector filmed her descent and the photographer captured her stunning arrival. Our celebrant, the Consul, smiled broadly. The village children ran along the beach underneath her, cheering and laughing as she gently descended, and manoeuvred into position for landing. They then respectfully returned to the palm trees up the beach, and watched the landing from there with their families.

Her feet were bare and her legs too, but only up to her knees. I was surprised at her dress until I realised it was tucked safely inside what looked like a large white billowing sack, quite like a snowman, yes, but more like a large pair of old-fashioned bloomers. I couldn't stop smiling. Her eyes never left mine. She mouthed "I love you" still hanging on firmly. Her landing was practically faultless as Cal and Ram caught her and quickly released the harness and helped her off the swing while Manny and Zero gathered the chute quickly, handing it onto one of the attendants. The children and their families applauded. She waved joyously at everyone and blew me a kiss which I caught and held to my heart. She beamed. She signed "I love you" and then pensively, still grinning, "Stop, C U, 5 or ten (minutes)" as she indicated her left wrist, blowing another smiling kiss and a wave before she disappeared being the veiled archway. She just took my breath away.

I was beaming with pride. Amazing. I caught the massive white grin on Tank's face and I'm sure mine matched his. He was bent over, chuckling, resting his hands on his knees, shaking his head. He was enjoying this vision, this entirely beautiful scenario. So wonderful. So unexpected. She never disappoints and I found myself shaking my head in disbelief. The funniest most beautiful smiling snowman floating gracefully from the sky. She was now hidden from view behind the veiled archway since the tie back ribbons had been undone. Her dramatic entrance had caught us all unawares. But the excitement and euphoria was uncontained.

"Did you see that?!"

"Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable!"

"That was spectacular!"

"She blew me a kiss."

"Idiot. That was mine!"

This was accompanied by the sound of someone being hit upside the head.

"I saw her first."

Another upside.

"I'll never forget that, ever."

"Did you see that smile? She is amazeballs!"

And in between high fives and chuckles they too were shaking their heads, in awe and admiration.

Within less than ten minutes she was ready as Marta and Marisol opened the veils and attached them to the pillars with turquoise and silver ribbons. I was totally mesmerised at the sight of her in all her bridal glory. Given the silence that descended after the automatic 'Aahs' and a collective intake of breath, so were her Merry Men. Rather than their usual catcalls and wolf whistles, they too were awestruck and stunned. Silent.

She was bent over, dusting her toes, with her back to us, slowly straightening up. Her figure hugging dress enhanced her beautiful curves with a sexy side split that ran thigh high. _Madre Dios!_ Be still my heart. Seeing the lace-up crisscross of ribbon on her lacy corset-like bodice, had me aroused already as it sat low on her back. I think I might have groaned. The lace-up back of the corset was very sexy and alluring. Thinking about undoing those crisscross ribbons had me checking myself. I had to tame my hormones. I would have fun with those … later … with my teeth. _Dios_. Later, Down boy. It was then that Stephanie slowly turned around with the most mischievous yet coy grin. I think she read my mind as her smile broadened since I must have blushed. Do Cubans even blush? No doubt since I felt my face heat up. I blew out a breath, like Steph so often does, like when she blows a stray wisp of hair off her forehead. I love that so much. Her chin tilted up some more and she winked at me. She knew exactly what she was doing. _Dios mio_.

Her bejewelled strappy heels were delicately wrapped around her beautiful ankles. She was right about her "killer heels". They were sexy as hell. They were intricate with silver beads, blue gemstones and pearls which matched her dangly earrings with a feature stone of brilliant blue topaz and I recognised the beautiful blue larimar. Her pretty toenails were a matching shimmering blue. I worked my way up from her sexy ankles and up her long golden tanned leg almost hidden by soft full-length chiffon with that thigh split, giving me a teasing glimpse of her sexy long legs. She was the epitome of elegance. Her dress was fitted at the waist with a short lacy underskirt or dress, up to that lacy corset top with thin spaghetti straps and delicate off the shoulder matching lace. The lace was very pretty and suited her so beautifully as it formed so neatly, like many white tropical flowers and leaves hugging her breasts and her toned figure.

She turned around again to wave at the children and then made sure the long overlays of her dress didn't get left behind. _Dios_. She had a matching strand of pearls and silver beads down her beautiful back. Did I say it was sexy? This was simple and very sexy and enchanting. And I was captivated by her beguiling smile.

By the time I came to her face she had stopped, watching me drinking her in, every single sexy inch of her luscious body.

Her hair was mostly loose and her curls bounced beautifully. Of course, that's why she had the turban on, so the wind wouldn't mess it up. Her left side was in a delicate up do with flowers behind her ear. I smiled at that of course. In her hand she held a small spray of frangipanis is soft tones of pinks, white and coral. I fell in love with her all over again. Her natural beauty glowed, and with the little make up, she was stunning. Radiant.

She too drank me in. I was in stone coloured linen pants and a long-sleeved white shirt with a waistcoat over the top and stone coloured canvas loafers. My sleeves were rolled up. I could see her admiring my arms. She liked my biceps, a lot. All her Merry Men wore the same but not the waistcoat. They wore beige leather suspenders. Stephanie smiled approvingly as she licked her lips.

It was only then that I realised the music, _Maria Elena_ was playing. I remember my parents dancing to this instrumental piece when I was young. They were so in love and I appreciated how romantic it was.

She stepped forward and reached out to Ella and Luis and kissed them on both cheeks with an extra hug from a teary-eyed Ella. They escorted her through the veiled archway towards me. When we had asked Ella and Luis to 'give her away', Ella had cried and I noted that Luis was rather misty-eyed. Now here they were, bringing my beautiful bride Stephanie to me, beaming like proud parents.

As the music stopped we stood face to face, smiling. I really wanted to kiss her right there and then … and run off with her and have my way with her, over and over again. God, I loved this woman so much. What she does to me. _Dios_. She shook her head and grinned at me. Did I say that out loud? I looked up at our special friends and they too grinned at me. I rolled my eyes at which Stephanie giggled.

"HOOAH!"

Okay. I can handle that. She set her bouquet on the little table. I took my Babe's hands in mine and looked into her beautiful blue eyes. She squeezed mine firmly and smiled that magical smile of hers. She looked calm and relaxed.

"Are you ready for this, Babe?"

"Definitely, Batman."

I smiled at her decisiveness.

"Let's do this then. It's gonna be good."

We laughed as she said the exact words at the same time. Together we looked expectantly at our celebrant, our officiate, the Consul. I squeezed her hands and smiled contentedly. This was it. It's really happening. We already have it happening here on the US Virgin Islands but this makes it real, official.

He did the usual preamble and the lead up. We had decided to do our own vows in addition to the official ones.

And here was our cue.

"This is it, Babe. This is our Someday."

"This is our Someday, Batman."

"Stephanie Michelle Plum, I promise to be the best I can be to love you, respect you, honour and worship you."

"Ricardo Carlos Mañoso, I promise to be the best I can be to love you, respect you, honour and worship you."

"I give you my whole heart, unconditionally, Stephanie."

"I give you my whole heart, unconditionally, Carlos."

"On this day, forever. _Mi amor, mi corazón, mi amante y mi alma, para siempre_. This is our Destiny."

These last three lines we said together, so reverently.

When he pronounced us husband and wife, my lips were already firmly attached to hers in a searing kiss before he could finish uttering those momentous words. I may have kissed her a few more times.

I was ecstatic.

I was euphoric.

This was joy.

We both felt it. Exhilaration.

We had done it. We are Mr and Mrs Mañoso. I dipped her in a deep passionate kiss amid the wolf whistles and catcalls. I kissed her gently and reverently. I lifted my Babe, my bride, my wife, and twirled her around so she was off the ground completely, such was our happiness and jubilation.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?"

She smiled and shook her head.

"Have I told you how dashing and handsome you are?" She countered, as I shook my head playfully.

"You look totally edible, Babe." And she blushed at my hungry, lustful looks with the silent promise of things to come.

As the sun was setting, the photographer took many photos of us, the Rangemen, Steph being held aloft by her Merry Men, with Ella and Luis and so many more. We were playful in our poses even doing that classic lift from Dirty Dancing.

Earlier, our photographer had taken photos of the men while we waited for my bride. All our military camaraderie was there but in a more glorious setting and occasion. It was cathartic for us all. We laughed and messed around for the photos, some with our shirts unbuttoned and Stephanie had insisted, no, she had demanded, at least one with our shirts off.

The photographer was good. He captured so much in his photos. He was an artist. And modest too. Best of all, he was unobtrusive.

It was only then that we allowed the congratulations and hugs and kisses from our Rangeman family, beginning with Ella and Luis. We had more photos and as the sun silhouetted us with vibrant colours of gold and pink, we jumped for joy in unison. We did many takes on the jump and variations of it. Joy is so contagious. With a few more solo photos of us as a married couple, we decided on three photos to send to the Trenton Times, to include in their Island Getaway Vacation Feature. No names. No location. Only a small photo montage had been agreed, with just a subtle hint that we were former Trentonites. Hector had arranged this and we both thought it was an appropriate and rather brilliant bitch slap to the Burg. The new editor was delighted to be part of the 'slappery' conspiracy.

The rest of the evening was enjoyed in the company of our local village friends. Marta had promised a wonderful feast and she had delivered. The multitude of tiny party lights with white and silver streamers was truly magnificent with such a wonderful party atmosphere. The floral displays were repeated on each table. We ate and danced and drank, but not to excess.

Stephanie looked radiant.

I held out my hand to her and she nodded. After making our thanks, we left for the resort, the honeymoon executive suite. We had some more celebrating to do, a lot more.

 **o.o.o**

 **The End**

 **Yes. I completed this tale.**

 _I would like to say a big thank you for seeing me through. Special thanks to Ms Margaret for her encouragement and gentle persuasion aka harassment._

 _I cannot believe how the characters can hijack a story so unabashedly. But, oh what fun they had and they did behave themselves in this chapter. I can visualise the beach photos and would be happy to share the one of the shirtless MM with you. Mmm-mmm. I hope your imagination is as vivid as mine._

 _Time to move on._


End file.
